


Any Other Day

by Gerec



Series: Tumblr Ficlets and One-Shots [1]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, X-Men (Alternate Timeline Movies), X-Men (Movieverse), X-Men: Days of Future Past (2014) - Fandom, X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Age Difference, Alpha/Omega, Alternate Universe - Cinderella, Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Mob, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Space, Angst, Beach Divorce, Blood and Gore, Bloodplay, Character Death, Crack, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Erik is not a Happy Bunny, F/M, Ficlet, First Meetings, Fluff, Forbidden Love, Halloween, Helen of Troy - Freeform, Honeymoon, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Mpreg, Implied/Referenced Underage, Infidelity, Inspired By Tumblr, Inspired by Myth, Jealous Erik, Kidnapping, M/M, Male Strippers, Missing Persons, Missing Scene, Mistaken Identity, Multi, Old Married Couple, Outtakes, PWP, Painplay, Partner Swapping, Polyamory, Possessive Raven, Post-DOFP, Pre-XMFC AU, Preview, Romance, Romantic Comedy, Second Chances, Seduction, Sequel, Sleepless in Seattle AU, Sound of Music AU, This Means War AU, Threesome, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Twincest, Undercover as a Couple, Vampires, Violence, Werewolf Sex, Werewolves, magic mike au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-23
Updated: 2015-12-29
Packaged: 2017-12-21 15:49:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 52
Words: 33,379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/902067
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gerec/pseuds/Gerec
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><b>A collection of ficlets and snippets from Tumblr. Mostly Cherik & Xavierine.</b><br/>33: Cherik, Xavierine - Charles makes the ultimate sacrifice.<br/>34: Cherik - Erik hits Raven with the bullet, not Charles.<br/>35: Cherik - Erik's declaration of love only makes it worse.<br/>36: Xavierine - Charles cheated on Logan with Erik. Logan leaves.<br/>37:  Xavierine - Logan is in love with a married Charles.<br/>38: Cherik - Charles and Erik are stuck in a broken shuttle when Erik goes into heat.<br/>39: Xavierine - DOFP post-Cerebro missing scene. H/C<br/>40: Xavierine - Charles flirts with his old babysitter.<br/>41-47: Cherik + Xavierine - Series of pre/post fic snippets of existing fics, incl. Gods or Mortals, Dangerous Games & All of You and All of Me.<br/>48: Xavierine - Raven meets Logan. She's terribly unimpressed.<br/>49: Xavierine - Pre-XMFC au, Logan and Charles PWP.<br/>50: Cherik - Magic Mike AU.<br/>51: Cherik - Erik's dick in a box.<br/>52: Xavierine - Charles and Logan test Logan's healing factor during sex.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Contents

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Tumblr Gif Set](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/25359) by mcavoyings. 



Chapter 1: Contents

Chapter 2: 'Any Other Day' - Charles almost stops Erik's wedding. Almost. (Charles' POV)

Chapter 3: 'Any Other Day' - Erik's perfect day isn't quite so perfect without Charles. (Erik's POV)

Chapter 4: 'Erik, Charles and Wesley' - Tumblr prompt; Jealous play-fighting in bed over whoever you get to pick. Double bonus points for double penetration.

Chapter 5: 'Teach Me Everything' - Sneak peek at the upcoming prequel/sequel to 'The Hellfire Club' with underage Charles/Kurt Marko. 

Chapter 6: 'Honeymoon in New York' - Inspired by tumblr and Sir Ian' and Sir Patrick's adventures in NYC.

Chapter 7: 'Driving Lessons' - Tumblr prompt; Driving lessons from Erik but Charles is really shit at it and Erik cheats with his powers to help Charles.

Chapter 8: 'Alpha Logan and Omega Charles' - Fic preview; Omega Charles finds another alpha for his unborn child.

Chapter 9: 'Sleepless in Seattle' - SiS AU; Erik might really be waiting at the top of the Empire State Building.

Chapter 10: 'From Here, To Here' - Inspired by tumblr; Charles shows his love with a gift that reminds Erik of a cherished childhood memory.

Chapter 11: 'Captain Lehnsherr and Herr Xavier' - Sound of Music AU; Erik calls off his engagement to the Baroness Frost and goes to tell Charles the news.

Chapter 12: 'The Engagement' - Fic preview; Omega Charles, heir to the throne of Westchester must choose a mate from all the royal suitors of the six kingdoms.

Chapter 13: 'Missing' - It's been a year since Charles disappeared without a trace. Erik is determined to find him.

Chapter 14: 'Prince Erik's Birthday' - Charles reconnects with his childhood friend Prince Erik, at His Highness' 21st birthday party.

Chapter 15: 'The Billionaire and the Bodyguard' - Logan is the new bodyguard assigned to billionaire playboy and CEO, Charles Xavier. Erik is not pleased. And Moira just wants the mission to be over.

Chapter 16: 'The Professor and the Porn Star' - Erik and Azazel see a familiar face in the grocery store who may or may not be Erik's favorite porn actor 'Frankie X'.

Chapter 17: 'Cerebro' - Charles gets a headache from Cerebro and Erik takes care of him.

Chapter 18: 'What're The Odds?" - Erik and his partner Logan realize they're dating the same guy. Oh and there's a bet.

Chapter 19: 'Double Date' - Emma suggests a couple-swap with her friend Charles and his date, Moira. Erik is reluctant...and then pleasantly surprised by the evening's outcome.

Chapter 20: 'Dreams of You' - Logan dreams about Charles Xavier. Post DOFP.

Chapter 21: 'Raven's Show' - Outtake from 'Lost and then Found'. The first time Charles meets Steve Rogers.

Chapter 22: 'Come And Get Me' - A little snippet of Charles/Logan sex, inspired by this [amazing art by dwaroxxx](http://dwaroxxx.tumblr.com/post/100336779156/something-a-little-nsfw-sh-going-on-under-the-cut).

Chapter 23: 'Taking the Leap' - Another outtake from 'Lost and then Found'. Steve and Charles go on their fourth date and Charles tries something new.

Chapter 24: 'Hallowe'en Treat' - Logan's a werewolf and Erik's a vampire and the two are working the bar on Hallowe'en. They meet Charles, who may or may not be dressed as a virgin sacrifice.

Chapter 25: 'Learn to Share' - Post-DOFP, Erik finally comes back to Charles only to find that he's with Logan now. They both have to learn to share.

Chapter 26: 'Forbidden Love' - Charles must help his lover flee before sunrise. With Vampire!Charles and Werewolf!Logan.

Chapter 27: 'In Good Company' - Sequel snippet to 'The Hellfire Club' - Charles has been kidnapped by Erik's enemies. His bodyguard Alex is unfortunately along for the ride.

Chapter 28: 'Countless Lifetimes' - Sequel to 'Forbidden Love' - Logan searches for a love lost through the years.

Chapter 29: 'The Morning After' - Erik and Logan leave Charles' apartment after a threesome. There's awkwardness and an invitation to breakfast.

Chapter 30: 'PROF X IS TOTALLY A BABE' - a.k.a. How My Dad Used to Date My Crush by Lorna Dane

Chapter 31: 'Not his Charles' - Charles Xavier almost died protecting Erik...and now Erik doesn't recognize the man he's become.

Chapter 32: 'Change For Me' - Werewolf/human sex - Charles interrupts sex with Logan to ask an important question.

Chapter 33: 'Not Again' - Charles makes the ultimate sacrifice. An XMA au.

Chapter 34: 'Cuba, an alternate end' - Erik hits Raven with the bullet, not Charles.

Chapter 35: 'Not Enough' - Erik's declaration of love only makes it worse. Divorce au.

Chapter 36: 'It's Over' - Charles cheated on Logan with Erik. Logan leaves.

Chapter 37: 'I Know' - Logan is in love with a married Charles.

Chapter 38: 'Emergency Sex' - Charles and Erik are stuck in the middle of nowhere (in space), in a broken shuttle. Erik goes into heat. It's really not a good time.

Chapter 39: 'DOFP Missing Scene' - As the serum wears off, Logan carries Charles to bed and ends up staying there with him.

Chapter 40: 'Have We Met' - Charles flirts with his old babysitter Logan.

Chapter 41: 'Sequel Snippet - An Interesting Proposition' - Erik finds out he's a father, and that there's a new alpha staying with Charles.

Chapter 42: 'Prequel Snippet - Dangerous Games' - Charlotte Xavier meets a mysterious stranger named 'Erik'.

Chapter 43: 'Preview Snippet - Gods or Mortals' - Erik has a gift for Charles on his wedding day. Charles gives him a gift in return.

Chapter 44: 'Sequel Snippet - The Sleeping Prince' - Logan meets a boy in the tavern with tales of The Sleeping Prince.

Chapter 45: 'Sequel Snippet - Setting A Different Course' - Logan meets Charles Xavier, after the events of 'DOFP'.

Chapter 46: 'Preview Snippet - All of You and All of Me' - There's an assassination attempt on Charles' life.

Chapter 47: 'Sequel Snippet - The Man With No Name' - Logan regains his memories.

Chapter 48: 'Who The Hell Are You?' - Raven meets Charles' friend Logan, who shows up unexpectedly at their Oxford flat.

Chapter 49: 'I Like The Tie' - Charles and Logan meet during Charles' time in Oxford. Pre-XMFC AU.

Chapter 50: 'The Xavier Club for Super Hot Gyrating Bods of Steel' - The Xavier Institute for Gifted Youngsters is just a front. Aka a 'Magic Mike' AU.

Chapter 51: 'It's Not A Purple Tie' - Erik visits Charles on his birthday and brings a very special gift.

Chapter 52: 'My Turn' - Charles and Logan test out Logan's healing factor during sex. Consensual blood/pain play.


	2. Any Other Day - Charles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Charles almost stops Erik's wedding. Almost.

He should have said something to Erik sooner.

There have been a million opportunities over the years, for Charles to tell his best friend how he feels. That he loves Erik – no, not as friends because of course Erik knows _that_ – but how Charles _is in love with him_ and has been since their first year in university. How he adores the way Erik gets up earlier than Charles every morning and makes the coffee before he goes out for his run. How he insists on being the designated driver so Charles never has to worry about getting home after a night out with friends.

How they flake out on the couch together on Sunday afternoons, watching old John Wayne movies and 80’s cartoons.

He really should have said something a lot sooner.

Like maybe anytime before today. Erik’s wedding day.

He runs and runs and runs; dodging the crowds on the sidewalk, desperate to get to the church before...

Before what? Before Erik says ‘I do’ with Emma? Before he runs into a room full of their family and friends and pulls ‘The Graduate’ and interrupts his best friend on the most important day of his life? When he had lied to Erik about having to leave early to head to Oxford, so he could get out of being best man at the wedding?

All his thoughts - the ones racing around in his head of _what am I doing_ and _this is insane_ and _Erik, Erik, Erik_ – evaporate the moment the turns the corner and sees the wedding party standing behind the church. Standing in front of the camera as the photographer takes picture after picture of the beaming newlyweds.

Charles stares at Erik, watching the sun shine down on the happy couple making Emma’s dress and Erik’s smile sparkle so brightly even he has no trouble seeing it from across the busy street.

He turns and rubs his face with his hand and doesn’t see Erik’s eyes land on him or the expression on the man’s face as he walks away.

\---

The knocking on his door manages to drag his attention from the laptop and he’s surprised to see that it’s already 9 o’clock at night. He’s been so engrossed in his paper that he’s completely missed dinner – and apparently three texts as he glances at his phone on the way to the door.

They’re all from Erik.

His heart is already thumping like he’s been running, even before he’s read any of the messages. Why is Erik texting him? When he hasn’t heard a word from him for the three weeks since he’s been in Oxford?

Since the wedding.

He pulls the door open...and is stunned to see Erik standing there, looking a bit breathless like he’s just run up the three flights of steps to Charles’ apartment.

“Charles,” Erik says with a slight shake of his head, his face filled with emotion. “I made a mistake.”

He says nothing, can’t find any words; doesn’t understand why his best friend is here, thousands of miles away from his new life across the Atlantic.

“It’s always only been you.”


	3. Any Other Day - Erik

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Erik's perfect day isn't quite so perfect without Charles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Based on the same gif set as the previous chapter, told from Erik's POV.

It’s a perfect day for a wedding.

He’s surrounded by smiling faces, his groomsmen laughing as they jostle him inside the church, his family and friends stopping to wish him ‘good luck’ as he makes his way down the aisle. The sun is shining, the pews are packed and his parents are the happiest he’s ever seen them. 

But it’s not quite _the_ perfect day that Erik had expected. 

Because he can’t stop thinking about what’s missing, today of all days. Or _who’s_ missing from his place at Erik’s side. 

He wonders why he’s feeling this way, still so hurt and bereft at the thought of Charles now, probably on his way to the airport. That his best friend couldn’t stay just a few more days, to be the rock Erik’s always counted on since the day they met.

Maybe he should have told Charles, how much he needed him. That he’s never met anyone who understood him and accepted him so easily – his reticence and his mercurial temper; who loved him without judgement and without reserve. How Charles has the kindest soul and the biggest heart that Erik has ever known. That he can’t think or breathe when he thinks about the next two years and what life will be like without Charles in it every day. 

The realization of what it all means only hits him later, after he and Emma exchange their vows. When he’s standing outside in the sunshine, posing with his new bride for the photographer. When his eyes land on the unmistakeable figure of Charles across the street, turning and walking away from him.

\---

He tells Emma the next day. And it goes over about as well as can be expected.

She listens to him with a slight frown on her lips but doesn’t interrupt as he pours his heart out to her. He loves her, very much – she’s smart and sophisticated and perfect, full of life and love and the strength of character that Erik has always admired. But he doesn’t love her enough for a happy marriage, he tells her as tears run down his face, if he feels the way he feels about Charles. 

When he’s finished, Emma slaps him hard across the face and then pulls him into a hug. Her eyes are wet but she doesn’t cry, choosing to deal with the situation with her usual stoicism and grace. They drink whiskey together until they pass out, then wake and talk into the early hours of the next morning before Erik finally falls asleep in her arms.

They talk and talk and talk some more over the next three weeks, until finally she tells Erik to go to Oxford. She loves Charles too – the two are childhood best friends – and whatever happens between all of them now he has a right to know the truth. It’ll be difficult and complicated and messy, she says, and Tony will probably ruin him if he doesn’t hurry up and figure things out.

\---

He thinks about it all the way to the airport and during the flight over, of what he should say to Charles. That he loves watching Charles laugh, his eyes crinkling with mirth at something Erik says. That he hates the organic wheat toast Charles makes them for breakfast, but eats it every day because it makes Charles smile. That nothing makes him happier than coming home late at night, to find Charles on the couch with a book in hand having fallen asleep waiting for Erik.

He wants to say ‘I’m in love with you’ and ‘I need you in my life’ and ‘I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner what you mean to me’. Nothing seems adequate to express what he’s feeling, or the cluster fuck he’s made of Emma’s life because of his inability to know his own heart.

And when the door opens and Charles is there, staring at him with wide eyes and an expression of bewilderment and undisguised hope, it’s the only thing he can think to say.

“It’s always only been you.”


	4. Erik, Charles and Wesley

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tumblr ficlet written for ang3lsh1, based on the prompt:
> 
> _Charles/Wesley/Erik, jealous play-fighting in bed over whoever you get to pick. Double bonus points for double penetration._
> 
> Also fits the 'Wesley is Charles' twin brother' square on my XMFC Bingo Card!

"Lehnsherr!"

The door to the bedroom slams open, an irate, incredibly frustrated Wesley storming inside with a fierce scowl on his face. There’s a brief, loaded silence that follows as the two men on the bed take in his appearance, only for the moaning (Charles’) and grunting (Erik’s) to resume almost immediately without a word.

"Bastard," he growls, not quite under his breath as he yanks his leather jacket and t-shirt off, tearing his jeans and underwear away and tossing everything onto the floor. Charles looks up at him from his position on the bed, pinned beneath Lehnsherr with his arms tied to the headboard. 

"Hello Wes," he says with a sigh, head thrown back in ecstasy as Erik rocks against him like a man possessed. "We weren’t expecting you back already."

"Obviously," he snorts in reply, climbing on the bed and grabbing the back of Lehnsherr’s neck, holding him still with a grip that will undoubtedly leave marks. "I thought I told you to wait for me."

"Fuck you Gibson," Erik snarls, turning to grab the other man and pulling him around, mouth closing on Wesley’s in a heated kiss that leaves both men panting. "Charles is _my_ lover; we can fuck whenever we want. We don’t need your fucking permission.”

"Charles is _my_ brother,” Wesley snaps, biting down hard on Erik’s neck and dragging a pained moan that makes him grin viciously and his twin chuckle with amusement. “He was mine before he even knew you existed.”

"Perhaps we should focus gentlemen," Charles interrupts, eyes fluttering closed as Wesley leans down to kiss him, licking the inside of his mouth as Erik continues to move above him. "I’d rather have you two using all that pent up animosity on something more enjoyable."

Wesley smiles and brushes a hand against his brother’s cheek. “Did you prep, Charlie?”

Charles returns the smile, mirroring the delight and lust written all over Wesley’s face. “Yes. We wanted to be ready…just in case you got home early.”

"Oh that’s good to hear." He shoves Lehnsherr forward, pushing him on top of Charles so the two men are lying chest to chest. Wesley slicks himself up with lube and then gets on his knees, licking his lips in anticipation. "Ready for me?"

"Well darling?" Charles asks, his eyes wide and lips curved in a soft smile as he looks up at Erik. "Are you?"

He doesn’t wait for an answer, spreading Lehnsherr’s ass cheeks wide and pressing in slowly until he bottoms out, his own cock sliding hot and wet against Charles’. Groaning long and low, Erik fights to hold his body still as he adjusts to the additional girth. Wesley nips and licks at the broad shoulders, shifting his hands onto narrow hips and taunting his brother’s lover as his body thrums with need, “It’s alright if you can’t take it, Lehnsherr. That’s a lot of cock you’ve got shoved up your bony ass.”

Erik snarls and pushes back, and Wesley has to bite his lip to hold in the moan that threatens to erupt from the bottom of his toes to the tips of this fingers. Charles has no such inhibitions and keens loudly as Erik squeezes down on them both, whispering variations of _god Erik, so perfect_ and _you’re so tight_ into his lover’s breathless kisses.

"What are you waiting for Gibson?" Lehnsherr turns to glare at him and Wesley’s fingers tighten involuntarily on taut muscle and soft skin. "Fuck me. Hard."

"I don’t take orders from you," he answers and then slams his cock in, and does.


	5. Teach Me Everything

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sneak peek at the upcoming prequel/sequel to 'The Hellfire Club' with underage Charles/Kurt Marko.

“You’re sure about this, Charles? Do you understand what you’re asking?”

Kurt is sitting on the monstrously opulent four-poster bed (his mother’s bed), expression impassive; eyes dark and piercing as he studies his young stepson with unwavering intensity. Charles straightens his shoulders to hide the tremor running down his spine; he won’t be frightened or intimidated into changing his mind.

“Yes, I’m sure.” He licks his lips, mouth dry and says with as much conviction as he can put into the words, "I want this.”

His stepfather stands and walks towards him, all power and corded muscle, towering over his own comparatively short and awkward frame. Kurt is six feet tall with dark hair and brown eyes and is classically handsome the way Charles remembers his own father being - though the similarities between the two men begin and end there. 

He shivers, when Kurt places a hand on his cheek, brushing it gently before tilting his chin upwards to meet his unrelenting gaze. Charles feels a curl of anticipation in his stomach, a wild surge of lust tinged with fear that makes it impossible to tear his eyes away.

“I promised your father I would always keep you safe,” Kurt murmurs, a calloused thumb tracing Charles’ plush bottom lip. “You don’t have to do this.”

He thinks about Brian Xavier’s words to him, three weeks before he died. 

_“This life is dangerous Charles. You must always be on your guard, even with the people closest to you,” he says, as Charles sits obediently in his chair, his father smiling at him from behind the huge oak desk. “Know their desires; learn their secrets. Make them believe you are the only one who can give them what they want.”_

Charles smiles and takes his stepfather’s hand, kissing the tip of the man’s thumb before stepping into his arms. “I know.”

“Do you know,” Kurt continues, “that you will regret this someday, when you’re older and smarter?” His hands slide slowly down the curve of Charles back, stopping to rest just above the swell of his buttocks. “But I won’t.”

He shakes his head and clutches at his stepfather’s crisp white shirt with his fingers. “I won’t. I want this. I want you to teach me everything.”

Kurt chuckles and the deep rumbling sound is full of danger and promise. A large hand grasps him by the back of the neck, pushing him up against a hard body as his stepfather whispers into his ear, “You do everything I say. Exactly as I tell you. Can you do that?”

“Oh,” he answers with a triumphant smile, body pliant as he lets Kurt guide him backwards towards the bed. “Oh yes.”


	6. Honeymoon in New York

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by [this wonderful collage of pics on tumblr,](http://digg.tumblr.com/post/62248636789/ian-mckellen-and-patrick-stewart-are-best-friends) with Sir Ian and Sir Patrick and their adventures in NY.  
> I'm sorry this is ridiculous and cracky but I couldn't resist because well...they're adorable and I love old married Cherik!

Storm comes into the rec. room to find Rogue curled up on one end of the battered old couch, gloved fingers tapping away at the notebook on her lap. 

“Hey there. Did the Prof. and Magneto finally decide on a destination?”

Rogue doesn’t look up, her forehead scrunched in concentration as she stares at the screen and answers absently, “Looks like they decided to stay in New York.”

“Really?” she sits on the arm of the couch and leans closer to sneak a peek past Rogue’s shoulder. “That’s not terribly exotic for a honeymoon fifty years in the making.”

“I know right? Said they’ve never really seen the city. Wanted to do all the cheesy, touristy things they’ve never done before. Here check it out.”

Storm takes the notebook and finds herself gazing at Magneto’s personal blog – The Brotherhood United - where the most recent post is a picture of the newlyweds mugging for the camera on the observation deck of the Empire State Building, just ahead of Tuesday’s scathing indictment of the city’s dearth of social services for mature mutants in need. She chuckles and points at the screen, “Oh my god what are they wearing?”

Rogue shrugs, “The Prof. said they wanted to ‘go incognito’. Didn’t want to attract too much attention wearing their usual outfits. I guess it’s a disguise?”

She stifles the urge to roll her eyes because their ‘disguise’ isn’t exactly inconspicuous, looking for all the world like a couple of old Broadway actors camping it up for their fans. “And the Empire State Building? Really? Didn’t Magneto float them up there three years ago for Charles’ birthday?”

Rogue turns and flashes her a smile that’s all teeth. “I’m guessing the Prof. vetoed the Statue of Liberty.”

\----

It’s 2am in the morning when Hank gets the call and he picks up immediately, wondering what dire situation has befallen the X-Men this time.

“Hello? Sean? Is everything alright?”

“Hank!” He’s laughing, and he can hear a woman’s voice guffawing in the background. Moira. “Hank, oh my god have you seen the pictures?”

He scratches the end of his nose and pulls the glasses off his face, rubbing his eyes tiredly as he answers, “What pictures?”

A joyful screech followed by silence – and then Sean is back on the phone, almost yelling breathlessly, “Okay, okay I just sent them to you check your phone.”

He checks – and Sean has indeed texted him a picture which he enlarges to get a better view. It takes him a couple of seconds in his sleepy state to recognize the Professor and Magneto, posing in front of what looks like a pile of garbage, wearing matching black bowler hats. It’s such an incongruous sight that he’s speechless for a moment, before he clicks back to Sean on the phone.

“What…where… _what_???” 

“I know right?” Sean is still giggling uncontrollably as he gasps, “I think they’ve finally lost it! I mean look at their clothes. What the hell is Magneto wearing?”

Hank looks at the photo again and sighs. “Well anything’s better than the purple cape and the bug helmet right?”

\---- 

Raven is sitting at the kitchen island, sipping her tea and browsing the web when Logan storms in, stopping in front of her with a mad scowl on his face. She looks up at him and asks, deliberately calm and unreadable, “Something the matter?”

Logan growls, “I need to get a hold of the Prof.”

She stares at him for a moment. “And..?”

“He didn’t take his damn phone!” Logan spins around to the fridge and yanks it open, grabbing a beer and popping the cap off with another growl. “And Mags is blocking me on his.”

She tries, not terribly successfully, to hide her grin at his obvious displeasure. “Come on Logan. It’s their honeymoon. Let’s give them some time to –” she takes a quick look and then taps her finger on the screen, “take pictures with Elmo in peace.”

Logan frowns. “What?”

“Look, here on Charles’ Facebook page. He just uploaded their latest honeymoon photo.”

He leans over and squints at the screen, silent for an entire minute before turning to her and mutters, with excessive feeling, “What the _actual_ fuck?”

Raven smiles and takes another sip and says, “Yeah…I didn’t expect Elmo to be quite so tall either.”

\---

Logan goes to Emma Frost next because he knows if anyone can get a hold of the Prof. it would be the telepath. He catches her on her way in from her latest shopping trip and stops her at the bottom of the grand staircase. 

“Frost I need your help.” 

She arches an eyebrow at him and he snarls at her, before adding a grumbling, “Please.”

“What can I do for you today Mr. Howlett?”

“I need you to get a message to Xavier.”

Frost sighs, crossing her arms and tapping her fingers on her elbow. “Are we under attack?”

“No.”

“Have one of the students run away or is in any kind of mortal danger?”

“No.”

“Is the School about to burn down?”

“No!”

She smirks at him and he resists the urge to snarl at her in return. “I’m sorry but Charles left very specific instructions that they not be disturbed unless any of the aforementioned circumstances have occurred. I suggest you figure out how to resolve whatever minor crisis you have by yourself. Or perhaps bring it up with Ms. Munroe.” 

“I don’t see what the big deal is, they didn’t even leave New York.” He growls and starts to turn away, “I’m sure I can find them easily enough.”

Emma laughs and reaches into her pocket, taking her cell phone out and waving it at him. “Well sure you can find them easily you just have to follow Magneto’s twitter feed.” She clicks a few buttons on the device and starts to laugh. “Oh they’re having lunch at Coney Island. Here, see?”

Logan grabs the phone from her and takes a look at the picture – and doesn’t know whether to laugh his ass off or roll his eyes at the antics of their esteemed mutant leaders. Xavier is shoving what looks like half a hotdog into his mouth and Magneto is making some sort of bizarre expression on his face as he’s biting down on a stick of  
corn. He hands the phone back to Emma and is out of room and on his way to the garage when he hears her voice ringing in his head.

_“Logan you should probably take your time getting there. You wouldn't want to...interrupt them during their phallic shaped lunch, would you?”_


	7. Driving Lessons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tumblr ficlet written for cakeis, based on the prompt: 
> 
> _Driving lessons from Erik but Charles is really shit at it and Erik cheats with his powers to help Charles_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I completely forgot to post this when I wrote the Wesley/Erik/Charles one! It's short but fluffy...

"Alright I want you to parallel park the car in front of that white SUV."

Charles groans and gives Erik a look, his lips curling in displeasure. “I hate doing that. I’m terrible at it. Can’t we just drive around the block a few more times? Oh, we can go to the drive-thru at that burger place down the street!”

Erik sighs. “No we’re not going to the burger place, Charles. You’re supposed to be practicing so you can pass the driver’s test tomorrow.”

"Fine," Charles snaps before slowing the car to a stop beside the empty parking spot. He starts backing in without any real effort to align the car properly or to gauge the amount of space, jerking the car back and forth so many times that Erik loses count.

"There," Charles says after five minutes or so of growls and increasingly colorful swear words, "I did it. Can we go now?"

Erik doesn’t respond, because Charles is projecting _frustrationanxietyembarassment_ so loud that he might as well be shouting right into his ear. He takes a look at the twelve inches of space between the side of the car and the curb and contemplates asking Charles to try it again.

He doesn’t.

Instead, he reaches out with his powers to float the car gently off the ground, sliding it in line with the cars parked in front and behind. He turns to Charles and smiles, taking the telepath’s hand and giving it a light squeeze before asking, “How about we go for a walk and check out that burger place down the street?”


	8. Alpha Logan and Omega Charles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After Erik's departure post-Cuba, omega Charles looks for another alpha to help him and his unborn child through the pregnancy.
> 
> Enter Logan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Started for a prompt on the meme looking for Alpha!Logan and Omega!Charles which I LOVE but haven't had the chance to write more of since this short intro. I would very much like to (will definitely) come back to it. For the sex scenes. Oh yes.
> 
> Based on the premise that an omega needs an alpha partner around to ensure the pregnancy doesn't naturally terminate.

There are a lot of benefits to Logan’s mutant abilities; the superhuman strength and agility, the regenerative healing that makes him almost indestructible, the retractable bone claws that make him a highly dangerous weapon. These visible abilities often eclipse the slightly less interesting ones he possesses, like an acute sense of smell that’s as much of a curse as a blessing when surrounded by a sea of sweaty, alcohol soaked bodies. 

He’s learned to ignore it, or control it rather, whenever he catches the enticing scent of an omega nearing heat. He’s never been interested in tying himself down and so he steers clear of any potential mates no matter how unlikely, and sticks to betas or omegas looking for nothing more than a good time.

So he’s more than a little shocked when the door at Jake’s opens on a late Tuesday night and the ripe, luscious scent of an omega in heat hits him like a sledgehammer, nearly dislodging him from his stool. His body’s response is immediate and visceral; his heart is pumping wildly and a rush of adrenaline surges through him, almost jolting him to his feet and hurtling him towards the source.

Instead, he remains seated at the bar with his beer clenched in his hand as the smell drifts closer and closer behind him. He knows the other alphas in the room will have also caught the scent by now, even without the benefit of his acute sense of smell, and is waiting for the inevitable fight to break out. But nothing happens; no surge of testosterone and aggression from the others around him, Logan being the only one seemingly affected.

“Hello Logan.” The omega - male, British accent, voice gentle and soothing – stops just behind his left shoulder and leans close to whisper. “I hope you’ll let me buy you a beer this time, and perhaps stay long enough to hear me out.”

He turns around on his stool and rakes his eyes over the other man from head to toe, cataloguing every detail from the understated grey suit jacket to the expensive watch on his wrist, to the floppy brown hair and piercing blue eyes staring at him from a vaguely familiar face.

“Do I know you?” he growls and then leans forward and inhales a lungful of the man’s musky scent rolling off his body in waves. 

“I’m Charles Xavier,” the omega doesn’t seem to mind the invasion of his personal space, extending his hand out to Logan who reluctantly takes it, “I met you once briefly, when we were recruiting for a mission with the CIA.” He lets out a wry chuckle and Logan is flooded with the memory of two men, approaching him in a bar in New Orleans six months ago, and his own not so polite response to their overture. The images recede and he stares at Xavier. Telepath then. Fascinating. And dangerous.

“You weren’t interested at the time.”

“Still not interested bub.” He takes a swig of his beer and gives Xavier another protracted once-over before smirking. “At least not about any missions.”

The telepath grins, red lips curved mischievously and Logan feels a heady rush of anticipation and lust. “No. No missions. I have something entirely more…enjoyable in mind.”


	9. Sleepless in Seattle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cherik/Sleepless in Seattle one-shot, written for the wonderful **kageillusionz** who adores the same cheesy(awesome!) 80s  & 90s rom coms as I do :0)

Charles has never run so hard and so fast in his entire life.

It’s late and he’s running out of time and the ever present New York traffic seems to be conspiring against him as he hurries towards the Empire State Building. The top floors, incongruously lit with a giant heart in twinkling red makes Charles laugh as he dodges pedestrians and taxis alike, seeming to radiate warmth and sentiment over the wintry streets below.

Ducking inside the doors he runs full tilt towards the elevators for the Observation Deck, only to be stopped by a security guard who gives him a disinterested look and says, “Sorry sir, but the elevators are closed.”

His gut clenches; his mind racing at the thought that Erik could maybe, really be up there…that he could be up there waiting for Charles, thinking that he’d been stood up. “No. Please,” he pants, still trying to catch his breath, “I really need to get up there.”

The other man shakes his head, waving his hand towards the exit. “We’re closing up. No more runs tonight.”

He pinches the bridge of his nose in frustration and takes a deep breath, half turning to go before he whirls around and takes a hesitant step forward. “Listen, can I just take a quick look? There’s someone I was supposed to meet… He’s probably not even there but if I don’t at least look I’ll always wonder about it. Please?”

“Cary Grant right?” the guard asks, the corners of his eyes crinkling a little as he flashes Charles a knowing smile.

“You know that movie?”

“One of my favorites,” he chuckles and then Charles finds himself directed to the elevator and hustled on board, his whole body tense with anticipation. He finds himself smiling as the doors close and the elevator starts to move, numbers flashing quickly as they climb towards the upper floors. The smile is still there when the door opens, only to deflate slowly as his eyes take in the empty platform. 

“Sorry,” his escort sighs, sounding a bit disappointed himself. “Looks empty.”

“Can I take a minute?” Charles asks, voice soft to hide the disappointment clogging his throat as he steps out of the elevator.

“Go ahead.”

He sighs, shaking his head at his own foolishness, believing at his age in miracles and soul mates and _destiny_. At the sheer lunacy that has taken over Charles’ life since Christmas; falling half in love with someone he’s never even met, based solely on the gravelly warmth of the man’s voice and the piercing look in those grey-blue eyes. He should never have told Raven about the radio show and let her convince him this was a good idea. Should never have let himself hope that Erik would really come all the way from Seattle to meet him. Here. On top of the Empire State Building. On Valentine's Day.

Stupid.

So absorbed in his thoughts he almost walks right into it, a small ‘Captain America’ backpack wedged beside one of the telescopes. Reaching to grab it by the straps he proceeds to take a closer look, unzipping it without much thought. Inside he finds a toothbrush and a fuzzy teddy bear and is about to dig deeper for a name tag or address when he hears the elevator doors open behind him with a ‘ding’.

They don’t notice him at first, the man and his daughter exiting hand in hand, the little girl dragging him towards the telescope where Charles is standing. He can scarcely breathe when he realizes who it is - the tall, lanky man with brown hair and broad shoulders watching his young companion with adoration and relief as she speaks.

“Papa, I left it near the …”

They see him at the same time and both stop to stare at him, speechless as though they’ve seen a ghost. Charles can feel the weight of Erik’s gaze on him, heavy with disbelief and amazement and _wonder_ and lets out the breath he didn’t realize he was holding.

“It’s you,” Erik says and the way he keeps looking at Charles makes the last of the Professor’s apprehension disappear.

“It’s me.”

“I saw you,” Erik continues, “in the street.”

Lorna interrupts, shy but determined, “Are you Charles?”

He beams, nodding as the little girl takes a step closer towards him. “Yes.”

“You’re Charles?” Erik asks, looking a little bewildered even as Lorna gifts him with the biggest grin, walking up to Charles and extending her hand.

“I’m Lorna,” she says, with the solemnity of someone twice her age, “that’s my dad. His name is Erik.”

“Hi Lorna. Erik,” he answers, shaking her hand gently, relief and pleasure suffusing his response. Taking the bear out of the pack he hands it to Lorna and asks, “And who is this?”

“Steve.”

Charles chuckles, “Hello, Steve.”

The air is thick with heady anticipation and no small amount of awkwardness, the two men still staring at each other and uncertain what to do next. The tension is broken by a polite cough from the elevators, a gentle reminder of the lateness of the hour that seems to break them all  
from the spell.

“We better go,” Erik says, holding out his hand, a toothy smile on his face that Charles finds absolutely adorable and not at all intimidating. “Shall we?”

The fit is perfect; the way Erik’s slightly larger hand covers his own, the weight of it solid and natural and so _right_ against his skin. The touch is both electric and soothing at once; the excitement of something new with the promise of finally coming home.

“Erik,” he says as they bundle into the elevator side by side and hand in hand, Lorna smiling triumphantly between them. “It’s nice to meet you.”


	10. From Here, To Here

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tumblr ficlet, based on [this post: ](http://dearoldlove.tumblr.com/post/48769298148/from-to)
> 
> Prompt: _Two months into our relationship you once asked me how much I loved you and I just said “From here”. You didn’t get it and you got mad and thought I was playing around._
> 
> _Breaking up after almost two years together, I sent you a message 6 months later saying “To Here”. You still didn’t get it._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I 'Cherik'ed it', as per Kage's request!
> 
> **See notes at bottom for warning.**

“Favorite place you’ve ever been.”

There is affection there, for Erik, in the soft warmth of Charles’ voice. Contentment too in the smooth flex of Charles’ cheek against his skin, arms wrapped around him, holding him tight. What comes to mind immediately is ‘here now, with you.’ It’s the simplest answer Erik can give, and the most truthful.

Instead he answers, “Paris.”

Charles lifts his head from its resting place on Erik’s shoulder and gives him a sceptical look. “Really? Paris? That’s so…”

He chuckles. “So…? What’s wrong with Paris?”

“Nothing! It’s just…you’ve traveled all over the world, Erik! I just thought your favorite place would be a bit more exotic. Like Marrakesh. Or Buenos Aires.”

Except that he remembers very little of these ‘exotic’ places; every town, every city a mere pit stop on his endless hunt for justice – for Shaw - all over the world. Paris is the only city he really remembers, with a fondness and a longing for times past.

He tells Charles about his trip with his parents a lifetime ago, to visit the ‘City of Light’. Of the tiny flat on the Left Bank above the old book store where they stayed with family friends. Of the morning walks along the Seine, a fresh baguette in one hand as he watched the sun rise, holding his mother’s hand with the other.

Erik is a little stunned at how easily he bares himself to Charles, how much he wants to share with a man he’s only known for a few short months. The words ‘I love you’ fall from his lips just as readily as his most cherished memory and the radiant smile on Charles’ face is all that is needed to chase away the ever present shadows.

“Do you love me, Charles?” he finds himself whispering against plush, red lips. “How much do you love me?”

He needs to know. Needs to know with every fiber of his being that Charles feels exactly the same way.

Those intense blue eyes lock on his own, and a broad palm is placed gently on his chest. “From here,” is all Charles says, enigmatic smile on his face as Erik tries to understand, heart racing faster and faster as the body shifts above him, pressing close.

“From here,” Charles says again, and kisses him.

\---

“Do you need a hand?” Charles asks from the doorway of their bedroom, posture stiff and face pale. 

Erik shakes his head, hands not entirely steady as he zips his suitcase closed. He wants desperately for Charles to ask; to yell and scream and guilt him to stay. To be angry with Erik for running off after Shaw again, two years after the trail went cold in Argentina. 

“Charles…” he starts, though he doesn’t know what else to say. His lover had laid it out clearly for them both - if Erik stays, he’ll regret it and come to resent Charles. If he stays, he’ll never find his peace.

“Good luck.” Charles gives him a rueful smile, forehead creasing slightly from yet another headache. Erik reaches for him, intending to pull Charles close for a kiss only to have the other man take a step back.

“Good bye Erik,” Charles says, eyes wide and bright the last thing Erik sees before his lover turns and walks away.

\---

He is in Zurich, six months later, when the front desk tells him he has mail. It’s a plain brown business envelope, stamped with the name of a law firm he doesn’t recognize and he tosses it without much thought onto his desk, his focus on the meeting in an hour’s time. He promptly forgets its existence, and it is four days later before he notices the envelope again and finally tears it open.

Inside is a key with an address he doesn’t know, written on a beautiful cream colored note card. There is a letter too that Erik skims quickly at first, only to stop in stunned silence, hands shaking as he reads the words over and over again in disbelief.

_…Last Will_

_…Charles Xavier…_

_Beneficiary…_

_…Erik Lehnsherr_

\---

The key opens the door to a cozy little flat above a book store on the rue de la Bûcherie, a short walk to La Seine. It’s quiet and homey, the old wooden floors as worn and well-loved as the neighborhood where it’s situated.

He wonders when Charles found this place; if he'd wanted it to be their own private getaway. If he bought it before he knew about the tumor. Or after.

Erik wanders like the ghost that Charles is, restless from room to room, playing scenes in his head of what should have been. He lays on the bed for hours, from sunrise to sunset until the room is pitch black but for the strip of moonlight illuminating the old wooden dresser against the wall.

He only just sees it now as he stands, a white envelope with his name on the front, stuck to the large mirror above the dresser. Inside is a familiar cream colored note card, with nothing but two simple words written in Charles’ bold, elegant script.

_To Here._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for this chapter: Major character death


	11. Captain Lehnsherr and Herr Xavier

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Written as a (very) late holiday gift for the lovely **black—betty** who has a special place in her heart for the most awesome of movies - _The Sound of Music_. Here is the Cherik’d version of my favorite scene with Erik and Charles in the gazebo! (Feel free to imagine them singing as they gaze longingly into each other's eyes like I did!)

He finds Charles in the first place he looks, wandering by the gazebo, under the gently swaying boughs of the moonlit trees. It’s peaceful and quiet, a soft glow bathing the mansion grounds with the kind of wonder and beauty that Erik had forgotten for so many years. 

Forgotten, depriving himself and his children of so much love and laughter before Charles barreled headfirst into their lives.

Watching him now takes Erik’s breath away, the way the shadows play across Charles’ cheek; the way the young tutor licks his lips absently as he gazes into the distance, deep in thought. He wonders what – or who – the other man is thinking about. He hopes desperately, that Charles is thinking of him.

“Hello,” Erik calls out softly, though Charles still starts a little at his greeting. “I thought I _just_ might find you here.”

Looking slightly discomfited, Charles turns as he approaches, straightening his shoulders and asks somewhat formally, “Is there something you wanted?”

“Hm? No, no, no, no, no.” He points to the stone bench in front of him, trying to set the other man at ease as he considers carefully what he wants – needs - to say. Erik has never been terribly good at expressing his emotions but for Charles he hopes the sentiments in his heart will translate easier into words. “Sit, sit down, please. Please. Uh, may I?”

He watches and waits until Charles sits, before taking a seat on the opposite end, chuckling nervously. Erik finds it difficult not to squirm, feeling rather raw and exposed under the other man’s intense gaze. “You know I was thinking,” he says, using a light and casual tone to mask his apprehension. “I was wondering…two things. Why did you run back to the Orphanage? And what was it that made you come back?”

“Well,” Charles answers, his eyes darting from Erik’s face to his lap, hands smoothing imaginary wrinkles from his trousers. “I had an obligation to fulfill and I…I came back to fulfill it.”

“Mm, is that all?” 

Still looking and sounding far away Charles adds affectionately, “And I missed the children.”

Of course. Charles has come to love the children as much as they adore him, despite the somewhat rocky start of his tenure as their tutor. Though he’d hoped that perhaps, after the incident in the river and then the night of the banquet…

“On…only the children?” he can’t help but ask.

“No. Yes!” Charles stammers, flustered by the implication in Erik’s words and waving his arms animatedly as he responds. “Isn’t it right I should have missed them?”

“Oh yes! Yes of course!” And he can’t help but stumble on awkwardly with this line of questioning, to discern if Charles feels as deeply for Erik as Erik does for him, the person who occupies such a central place in his home and his heart. “I was only hoping that perhaps you…perhaps you might ah…”

“Yes?” 

“Well…nothing was the same when you were away and it’ll be all wrong again…after you leave.” Erik shakes his head, frustrated with his own lack of eloquence and inability to speak directly for what feels like the first time in his life, fear of Charles running away – again - if he reveals the truth of his feelings. “And I just thought perhaps you might uh…change your mind?”

Charles gets up rather abruptly, turning and taking a few steps away and Erik’s heart clenches, barely resisting the urge to pull the other man back and into his arms. 

“Well I’m sure the Baroness will be able to make things _fine_ for you,” Charles says rather sharply, perhaps revealing honest feelings regarding Erik’s engagement to Emma Frost for the first time.

“Charles…” Erik hesitates briefly before clearing his throat. “There isn’t going to be any Baroness.”

“There isn’t?” 

Erik wishes he could see the expression on Charles’ face instead of the back of his grey suit jacket and the stiff lines of his shoulders. He replies with a simple, “No.” 

Now Charles turns to face him again, looking adorably confused at his admission and says with a slight shake of his head, “I don’t understand.”

His eyes never leave the other man’s face as Erik moves from the bench and the two slowly make their way into the gazebo, walking side by side. He continues with a sigh, “Well we’ve uh, called off our engagement you see and uh…”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Charles interrupts softly, absently.

Erik frowns. “Yes…you _are_?”

“Mm hmm…” Charles nods and then suddenly freezes mid-step, turning to look up at Erik with those big blue eyes and asks, “…you _did_?”

And this, finally, is what Erik’s been waiting for, that same look of affection and such hope on Charles’s face as the night they danced together under the stars. He reaches to brush a tentative finger against an upturned cheek, slightly tinged in pink and murmurs, “Yes. Well you can’t marry someone when you’re in love with someone else…can you?”

Shaking his head again, Charles smiles warmly as he steps into ready arms and in that single moment, the whole of Erik Lehnsherr’s world tilts back into balance. He pulls Charles close and kisses him, a gentle taste of lips that the other man deepens with a soft moan, compact body slotting like a perfect puzzle piece against Erik’s taller frame. 

“Oh,” Charles whispers, mouth sweet and pliant, hands weaving through Erik’s hair before coming to rest on his shoulders. “I can’t believe this is really happening.”

It’s a sentiment Erik shares completely and he finds himself quite unable to respond for a moment; utterly breathless with joy now that he has Charles in his arms again, this time to stay.

“Moira always says that you have to look for your life,” Charles murmurs, breath warm against Erik’s neck, his arms holding on to Erik just as tightly as he’s being held in return. “I’m glad I listened to her.” 

A feather light kiss on the forehead makes Charles sigh contentedly and Erik asks, “Is that why you came back?” 

He gets a slight nod and a soft hum in agreement. “And have you found it, Charles?” 

“I think I have,” the other man answers dreamily, before continuing with conviction. “I know I have.”

“I love you,” Erik says, though he finds that the words mean everything and nothing, too simple to convey the enormity of all that he feels for Charles Xavier. “Do you know,” he grins, chuckling as Charles looks at him fondly, “when I first started loving you? That night at the dinner table when you sat on that ridiculous pinecone.”

“What?” Charles laughs, his clear delight echoing in the night air. “I knew the first time you blew that silly whistle.”

This time, it’s Charles that initiates the kiss, his hands sliding down to tug gently on Erik’s lapels, sealing them together into a single silhouette, framed against the doorway and bathed in moonlight. Erik cups a soft cheek in his hand and whispers, “Oh my love. Is there someone I should go to ask permission to marry you?”

The mischievous smile that lights up Charles’ face makes Erik grin helplessly in return. “Well, why don’t we ask the children?”


	12. The Engagement

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A preview snippet of my a/o fantasy AU, inspired by the myth of Helen of Troy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There will be Bamf Omega!(eventually Dark!)Charles, Bamf Alpha!Erik, kingdoms at war, marriages of convenience, betrayal, unrequited love and plenty of angst. Also Logan. So really all my favorite things!

Charles is in the rose gardens with Raven, waiting impatiently for his father’s arrival from the state dinner, wiping sweaty hands absently on his ceremonial tunic until an elbow in the ribs breaks his reverie.

“Stop fidgeting. If Mother saw you doing that to the new clothes she commissioned from the Royal Tailor…” 

“Right,” Charles sighs, smoothing wrinkles from the dark blue silk as Raven watches him with amusement. “I just…I wonder what’s taking Father so long. We were excused from dinner an hour ago.”

Raven shrugs, plucking a pink bud from the rose bush closest to where the two are sitting, on a carved bench in front of the central stone fountain. “There are suitors here from all the other six kingdoms, Charles. All royalty. I’m sure there are protocols and traditions and all kinds of other tiresome things that our father needs to do with the guests.” She tucks the bud behind his left ear and grins, teasing ruthlessly as she’s been doing since the first of the invitations went out two months ago, on the day of Charles’ fifteenth birthday. “No doubt they’re all singing your praises to try and sway father’s decision.”

Charles blushes; because what Raven says with such snide derision is likely the very thing that’s happening in the formal dining hall. The flattery is embarrassing, whether it’s delivered to him directly or to his parents the King and Queen and Charles longs for all of this to be over so he can get back to his studies.

 _“Oh Charles, you are the most beautiful omega in all the world,”_ Raven sings, jumping off the bench and kneeling before him with a great flourish. _“Your eyes are blue as the bluest sky! Your lips are red as the reddest rose! Your skin white as marble and smooth—”_

He can’t help but laugh at his adopted sister’s antics, though the words make his skin itch and his stomach clench. They are not so far from what’s actually being said about him; Charles Xavier, sole heir to the throne of Westchester, richest and largest of the seven kingdoms. Charles Xavier, the most sought after omega in five centuries, with a face so fair as to be graced by the gods.

“Stop it,” he chastises half-heartedly, knowing well that a more impassioned protest would only urge her on. “I want to be wanted because I’m _Charles_. Because they know me and want me for who I am and not just for my birthright. I want to marry for love, Raven.”

“That is an admirable wish, son,” his father answers, stepping down from the stairs into the garden and around the hedge row to a startled Charles and Raven, who jumps quickly off the ground and dusts off her own new clothes with a sheepish grin. “But it is not always feasible for royalty to marry for love, as our duty must always be to act in the best interests of our people, Charles. For the good of the kingdom.”

His father embraces Raven and kisses her on the cheek, before nudging her gently towards the direction of the palace. “Go on and get ready for bed, darling. I wish to speak with Charles alone regarding his engagement.”

“Yes Father, good night! Bye Charles.” She waves to them both and winks at her brother before skipping along the path and back towards the brightly lit windows of the south wing. They watch, father and son side by side until Raven disappears inside the door to the residences, waving to one of the guards standing at attention.

“Come Charles, sit next to me,” Brian says, patting the stone bench beside him, sighing loudly as he stretches his arms and shoulders, adjusting his own gold and black tunic absently. “Have you made a decision then? With whom will you be joined in wedded union?”

Charles clasps his hands together in his lap, trying hard not to fidget. “Must I choose now? The wedding won’t happen until I’m eighteen...why must I choose a mate so soon?”

His father wraps an arm around his shoulders and tugs him close, voice quiet and a little sad. “It is the law, Charles, I’m sorry. If you were an alpha you would not have to choose until you reached the age when you can take the throne. But you are not…and I have already done what I can to push off the date of your actual wedding by three years. I cannot overturn five hundred generations of Westchester tradition even for you, my most beloved son.”

“Then you already know what my answer is,” Charles states calmly, determined to have at least some say in his own fate. “I choose Prince Erik Lehnsherr of Genosha to be my alpha.”

“Lehnsherr,” the King murmurs, “yes, Erik is a good boy. His parents are just rulers of a fair land, though Genosha is neither as large nor as prosperous as Westchester. You have been friends for many years.” His father pauses and looks at him with understanding. “Do you love Erik?”

Charles nods and leans into his father’s side. “He and Logan are my best friends. If I must choose now then I want it to be someone who knows and cares about me. Who doesn’t just want me for the kingdom that I will rule someday.”

“It’s not always so bad, a marriage of shared goals, Charles,” his father says, squeezing his shoulder lightly as he continues. “Your mother and I grew to love one another, true? And there are others here who would make a good match for you. King Shaw of Aerie has the largest army of all the seven kingdoms. Prince Rogers of Attilan is quiet but well-mannered and has the most brilliant tactical mind of his generation. And King Munoz of Wakanda hails from a land rich with resources for trade. Joining Westchester with any of their kingdoms would give us much advantage.”

He can’t help but shiver as he listens in silence, certain from his father’s words that Charles’ wishes are to be denied for the benefit of Westchester. As the heir he knows well his duty, taught to him from the cradle that personal happiness must come second to the needs of his people.

“Do you wish me to marry someone else, Father? Is there an alpha choice that would most please you and the citizens of Westchester?”

Brian smiles and tips his son’s chin up gently so he can look into Charles’ eyes. “I have no desire to deny you your wish to marry Prince Erik.” He sighs before standing and taking a few steps forward, eyes gazing into the sparkling night sky. “You are my precious boy and I would give you what you ask. I only hope that he will be a good mate and partner and that you’ll never have cause to regret your decision today.”

Charles leaps off the bench and wraps his arms around his father from behind, laughing as the King spins to lift him clear off his feet and hug him so tightly he can hardly breathe. “Never,” he swears, giddy with so much relief and joy as his father looks on, eyes glistening from the torch light. “I’ll never regret choosing Erik, Father. We’ll always be good to each other, I swear it! You’ll see!”

\---

Two years later - engagement broken and abandoned by Erik for Lady Magda of the House of Romana - Charles can at least be grateful that his father did not live to see him in such a sorry state.


	13. Missing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's been a year since Charles disappeared without a trace. Erik is determined to find him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for this prompt from the lovely **traumschwinge** : 
> 
> _Angst and abandonment? Erik leaving Charles without any explanation and Charles starts to look for him. Or the other way round._

"Did you find him?" Raven asks, the moment he walks through the front door though her voice suggests it’s more from habit than any real hope that Erik has any news. Charles has been missing for over a year now and even Raven is beginning to despair that they’ll ever find her brother. 

"No, I didn’t."

_He unlocks the door to room 229 softly with a flick of his hand, revealing Charles curled under the covers, clothes disheveled and fast asleep. It’s a lucky break to catch his old lover in an unguarded moment like this, otherwise Charles could have redirected him telepathically or disappeared again before Erik has the chance to get some answers._

"Maybe Moira’s right, Erik," Raven sighs, rubbing a hand roughly through her short red hair. "It’s obvious Charles doesn’t want to be found. Maybe…you should stop looking."

_"I’ve been looking everywhere for you, Charles," he says to the telepath sitting on the bed, propped against the headboard, tired eyes staring fixedly at Erik. "You left without a word. You just disappeared! How could you do that to m…us? What the hell were you thinking?"_

"I can’t believe you of all people want me to give up!" he snarls, tossing his travel bag on the floor and brushing past Raven on the couch. "I’m going to find Charles and bring him home. I’m never going to stop looking for him. Never."

_Charles smiles at him…but it’s an empty facsimile of what Erik’s used to seeing from the telepath. “You’re very good at finding people, Erik and getting better it seems. It only took you two months this time. You’re either getting desperate or I’m losing my touch.”_

_Erik shakes his head and takes a step closer to the bed, only to stop abruptly as Charles raises his hand in warning. “What do you mean this time? This is the first I’ve seen you since you disappeared last June…isn’t it?”_

"He needs time, Erik," Raven argues, holding firm at the glare Erik sends her way. "You need to give him time to…get over what happened."

_"It’s the third time you’ve found me actually," Charles answers and Erik frowns because that can only mean— "of course, each time you do find me…you forget about it soon enough.”_

_Erik stifles the anger brewing in his gut, of Charles so carelessly admitting to tampering with his memories. “What will it take to get you to come home? What do you want from me?”_

_Charles shakes his head sadly, even as he gets up and crosses the room to stand in front of Erik. He places both hands on Erik’s chest and tugs him forward, leaning to brush a light kiss on his lips before whispering, “When you figure it out –_ if _you ever figure it out - perhaps then, I’ll come home.”_

"I can’t just sit around and wait, wondering if I’m ever going to see him again," Erik says, rubbing his eyes tiredly. "I owe him more than that, Raven, perhaps…" and he doesn’t know why he hasn’t thought of this before but maybe, just maybe — "…I should start bringing the helmet along."


	14. Prince Erik's Birthday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Charles reconnects with his childhood friend, Prince Erik, at His Highness' 21st birthday party.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for this prompt from **velvetcadence** who wanted some hurty fic:
> 
>  
> 
> _Cinderella AU gone wrong. Give me your best Gerec Angst._

“You look familiar,” Prince Erik says with a soft smile, his hand still larger than Charles’ after all these years. “Have we met?”

For the first time in a long time, Charles’ heart is filled with hope and unexpected joy. It appears that he did leave an impression on Erik after all, close friends and playmates they’d been as children, when his father would bring him along on his many visits with the King.

“It’s me, Charles. Charles Xavier,” he answers. “I used to…we—”

“Charles!” Erik exclaims, long arms wrapping around the younger man in a warm and affectionate embrace. “It’s been so long since you’ve come to the castle! How have you been? Are you here alone?”

The enthusiastic welcome is more than Charles expected and he tries not to blush at the fact that Erik has still not let go of his hand. “No, I’m here with my sister.”

Erik tilts his head slightly and gives him a puzzled look. “Sister? I didn’t know you had a sister.”

“She’s my stepsister. My mother married her father a few years after my own father died.”

“I’m sorry, Charles,” Erik says, voice soft with empathy and concern. “Brian was a good man. He’s been missed.”

Charles shakes his head and smiles, eyes never leaving the Prince’s attentive gaze. “Thank you. It was a long time ago.”

Erik nods and then grabs him by the elbow, pulling him towards the dance floor where he sweeps Charles into his arms with a laugh. “Keep me company will you? I need a moment away from all these ‘potential wives’ my father so graciously invited to my birthday party.”

It’s wonderful and everything he could have ever hoped for, the two of them slipping back into a friendship that Charles has cherished in his forced isolation all these years. They spend much of the evening by each other’s side catching up until Erik guides him out to the ball room to the central stone fountain outside. The courtyard is quiet but for the sound of the water trickling from the marble figures; the night is lit up with stars akin to a million candles in the sky. 

The moment is perfect. 

“Charles, I have something important to tell you,” Erik says, his eyes bright with anticipation. “I promised my parents I would choose someone at the ball and well...I’ve decided who I’m going to marry.”

“Yes, Erik?” he breathes and tries not to leap into the Prince’s arms before the words are even out of the other man’s mouth.

“Her name is Raven Markos, Charles. And it would please me immensely if you would agree to be the best man at our wedding.”


	15. The Billionaire and the Bodyguard

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Charles Xavier, billionaire playboy and CEO of Xavier Inc. is helping S.H.I.E.L.D. with their latest operation against Sebastian Shaw. Logan is pleased to play bodyguard/new love interest. Erik is NOT pleased that Fury gave the job to Logan. And Moira just wants the mission to be over ASAP.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ficlets I wrote based on the DOFP Virgin Train promo pics with James and Hugh [here](http://gerec.tumblr.com/post/81305348568/marourin-luciddrugs-is-the-promo-starting), [here](http://gerec.tumblr.com/post/81359914192/palalife-helens78-3-erik-and-then-i) and [here](http://gerec.tumblr.com/post/81615746616/traumschwinge-widgenstain-now-kiss).
> 
> Originally I had thought to turn this into a longer one shot but given how many WIPs I have as well as new DOFP fics I want to write I'm afraid it's not going to happen. :( So here it is for posterity.

“Look at these.”

It takes all of Moira's vast reserves of patience to NOT snap at Lehnsherr when he shoves his cell phone in her face, interrupting her in the middle of filing their latest field report to HQ. It’s a picture of Charles Xavier, the billionaire play-boy/philanthropist and CEO of Xavier Inc., on what appears to be a rather cozy date with his latest conquest.

“That’s great,” she says, bracing for the expected back lash, holding her hand up to delay the barrage of angry resentment that’s sure to come her way. “Looks like Logan’s doing his job.”

Erik snarls and throws the phone on the couch beside her with disgust. “He’s supposed to be _undercover_ , not gallivanting around town on Xavier’s arm and letting the paparazzi take their pictures!”

She sighs audibly…because this is about the eighth temper tantrum Lehnsherr has thrown since Fury assigned Logan to be Xavier’s bodyguard (instead of Erik) and about the third one since they got up that morning. “He’s doing his _job_. If they think he’s just the next himbo on Xavier’s arm, Shaw won’t have his guard up around them at Stark’s party tomorrow night. We need to get Logan inside and close to Shaw…for the _mission_. Remember?”

“I still don’t see why Fury couldn’t assign me to be Xavier’s guard,” he mutters half-heartedly and Moira would tell Lehnsherr to stop pouting if she didn’t think he’d try to strangle her with her own necklace.

“Because Shaw knows you work for S.H.I.E.L.D. Because he knows you’ve been gunning for him for years. Because you insulted Xavier when you met him by calling him ‘nothing but a pretty face with naïve and dangerous ideas about human/mutant coexistence. Plus he tried to sleep with you and we can’t have any ‘fraternizing’ until after the mission. Good enough?”

“Whatever,” he says, grabbing his phone off the couch and stalking off to the kitchen, hopefully to put on some fresh coffee. “Let’s hope for Logan’s sake that he remembers it’s ‘just a job’.”

\---

Lehnsherr's mood gets progressively worse as they prep for Stark's party and by the time they arrive at their destination he's not much more than a tightly wound ball of annoyance and rage. Moira does her best to ignore him as he paces; she’s partnered with him long enough to know that he’ll snap out of it when it’s time to get to work.

“Look, they’re here,” she murmurs and Lehnsherr is by her side in a flash, binoculars trained on the red carpet across the street where Stark is holding a VIP party for five hundred of his closest and richest friends. A sleek stretch limo has just pulled up in front of the ultra-luxury high-rise and Xavier steps out not a moment later, waving merrily at the crowd of photographers jostling with security for a chance to get a close-up of the young billionaire and the handsome mystery man on his arm.

Xavier blows a kiss to the crowd of onlookers and the roar of laughter and approval can be heard clearly from their hiding spot. Lehnsherr scoffs but doesn’t say a word, his eyes trained on Xavier (and Logan) as they start making their way towards the glass doors of the lobby. They can hear some shouting from the photographers, words too indistinct for Moira to make out from the distance but what’s being said becomes clear rather quickly.

“What the fuck are they doing?” Erik growls and Moira has to pinch herself in the thigh to stop from laughing out loud at the look on his face. The photographers have obviously asked Xavier for an impromptu photo-op and the man seems happy to oblige, laughing and posing with his ‘date’ for the cameras. 

“Just giving the public what they want,” Moira says, “Xavier’s been briefed; he knows his part in the mission. And you can trust Logan. They’ll check in once they’re inside and then things will move along.”

Erik doesn’t answer her; he’s too busy glaring daggers at the scene playing out on the red carpet, Logan wrapping his arm around Xavier and pulling him close. She would never admit it out loud (and certainly not in front of Lehnsherr) but Logan does appear to be playing his role with _way_ more enthusiasm than is technically required to do his job.

“I’m going to kill him,” Erik mutters, as the metal on the binoculars start to twist and warp.

Moira is going to kick Logan’s ass when this is all over.

\---

It takes them only ten minutes to get in unnoticed and up to the Atrium after Xavier and Logan head inside, using a personal security code provided by Xavier himself. It helps that the young CEO and Tony Stark are close friends who apparently shared quite a childhood of genius and excess wealth, Xavier insisting he would handle any Stark related fallout from the mission. 

“We’re in position,” Moira says, “Howlett, can you hear us?”

“I thought we talked about this, MacTaggert,” the gruff voice answers, clear and crisp through their earpieces. “I prefer Logan.”

She can feel the annoyance coming off Lehnsherr in waves as they walk side by side, their arms intertwined to blend in with the crush of party goers and wait staff milling around the giant open air space. The architecture is a marvel of Stark engineering genius; the Atrium a vast open space taking up the entirety of the second floor. The remaining seventy three floors take up all four sides around the open space, all the way up to the glass skylight above the seventy fifth floor. 

“Just tell us where you are,” Erik snaps, “and when you and Xavier are heading up to the Penthouse. Shaw got here fifteen minutes before you arrived so I’m sure he’s up there by now.”

There’s a muffled silence for a few moments and then Logan’s voice answers, “Chuck says we’re headed to the elevators now. Hopefully, we won’t get sidelined by any more Board members or fan boys.”

Moira rolls her eyes at the deliberate use of a nick name for Xavier and sure enough, Lehnsherr’s scowl is both immediate and fierce. She cuts in before anything unrelated to the mission gets relayed over the open channel, “Logan, how close are you to the elevators? We need a visual.”

Approximately 20 seconds of silence on the other end and then a dry, apologetic voice with an English accent speaks directly inside their heads. _So sorry Agent Lehnsherr, Agent MacTaggert. Slight delay on the dance floor. Won’t take a moment._

“Useful,” Moira mutters under her breath and when Erik quirks an eye brow at her she continues, “he doesn’t need an earpiece. I hate those things.”

Lehnsherr takes long strides in the direction Xavier indicated, forcing Moira to pick up her pace a little to keep up. “Why didn’t we just have him use his telepathy to keep us all in sync?” 

The wide grin forms easily, though somewhat unwillingly on her lips. “You told him to stay out of your head remember?” 

To his credit, Erik manages to keep from cursing out loud until they arrive at the edge of the dance floor, far enough away from the crowd that they can see Xavier and Logan fairly clearly. They are once again surrounded by photographers with special access passes, all of them cheering the two men as they twirl each other to the music and mug for the cameras.

“Oh my god,” Moira breathes, as Logan takes Xavier in his arms and then dips him to a wild round of applause by the onlookers.

And then Xavier comes out of the dip and throws his arms around Logan’s neck, pulling him down for a long, passionate kiss.

The crowd roars.

And Erik lets out a series of curses so vile that it would make Nick Fury blush like a school girl.


	16. The Professor and the Porn Star

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Erik and Azazel see a familiar face in the grocery store who may or may not be Erik's favorite porn actor 'Frankie X'.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tumblr fic, based on this post:
> 
> _what if u had an identical twin that did porn and u like went to the grocery and theyre like “omg i saw u take 3 dicks at once while wearing a turtle costume” and ur like “god dammit gary”_
> 
> Written for Ikeracity who asked for someone to 'cherik it'!
> 
> **CHINESE TRANSLATION AVAILABLE[HERE](http://www.movietvslash.com/thread-163171-1-1.html)**

“I’m telling you, it’s him.”

“It’s not him.”

“It _is_ him. Look! Same skin, same hair, same eyes. That _mouth_. Who can forget that mouth?”

“Shut up Az! Shut the hell up or he’s going to hear you!”

It’s downright _embarrassing_ , two grown men hiding behind a towering display of diapers and baby wipes as they watch their target disappear down the coffee aisle with his shopping cart. They’ve been following (stalking) the brunet in the blue cardigan and khakis for the last five minutes, trying – and failing - to get a better look at the man’s face.

It was Erik who saw him first, bending over to reach for a jar of spaghetti sauce on the bottom shelf, the stretch of his pants highlighting the most exquisite ass he’s ever seen. Supermarket pick-ups aren’t usually his thing, though Erik was keen to see if he’d found a worthwhile exception.

And then the man had straightened and turned his head slightly, revealing the profile of a face more stunning than anything Erik could have imagined. He’d been standing there staring, taking in the soft brown curls and the plush red lips, wondering why the man seemed oddly familiar when Azazel froze beside him and blurted out, “Holy shit! That’s Frankie X!”

Oh. Well.

It’s no wonder then, that the man seemed so familiar; Erik had in fact, spent the better part of last Wednesday evening (and most of Saturday too) getting rather intimately acquainted with the many talents of one Frankie X. He’d jerked off quite a lot to Frankie; bent over a couch and fucked by the ‘repair man’, then sprawled over the hood of an old ’69 mustang and fucked by the ‘mechanic’, before getting tag teamed by not two, but _three_ ‘students’ in a shoddy classroom set, stuffing their ‘professor’ full of cock for better grades.

Excellent. Erik almost hit on the porn star he’s maybe, sort of, _possibly_ developed a bit of a crush on these past few weeks.

“We should go talk to him,” Azazel whispers, before taking off from their hiding place to chase Frankie down the coffee aisle. Erik curses Azazel’s entire lineage and all of his unborn descendants too, before dashing around the diaper mountain to trail after his soon-to-be dead best friend.

“…Erik is a _big_ fan of your work,” is what the bastard is saying, just as Erik catches up and stops in front of Frankie. The smile on the actor’s face is blinding, his eyes far sharper and more ‘sky blue’ than ‘sea blue’ in person. Erik is riveted by the way he is very thoroughly checked out, Frankie’s interest obvious in the way he licks his lips and leans slightly into Erik’s personal space. 

“Is that right?” Frankie asks, his voice much softer and more obviously accented than his onscreen persona. “Are you a _big_ fan, Erik?”

 _Fuck yes_ he wants to say, though he feels a bit odd answering the question that way. How do you tell somebody you really love his work, when his work entails taking two cocks simultaneously up his ass as another cock fucks his luscious mouth? It doesn’t help that Frankie is wearing an outfit almost identical to the one in Erik’s favorite movie with the ‘stuffy on the outside, slutty on the inside, cardigan wearing professor’ (minus a pair of glasses)?

“Umm, yes, I am,” he manages to stammer out, face flushing at his own ineloquence. “You’re…very good at what you do.”

Azazel snorts loudly, which makes Erik elbow him hard in the stomach as Frankie watches their antics with an amused grin. “Thank you,” Frankie says, “were you at the event last week?”

“No, um, I watched you online?”

“Oh, well that’s good. Not as good as being there in person, mind. I would’ve loved having more bodies in the room.” 

Azazel’s eyes go wide at Frankie’s words, and Erik is fairly certain he has the same gobsmacked expression on his own face. “How many _did_ you have?” Azazel asks, voice glowing with admiration, the bastard.

“Not that many, about fifty,” Frankie answers, completely missing – or ignoring - the little wheezing noise coming from Az’s mouth. “I usually get a bigger crowd at these things.”

Erik tries – really, he _really_ tries – not to imagine Frankie surrounded by fifty sweaty, naked men, waiting impatiently for their turn to fuck him. He knows Azazel is thinking the exact same thing and isn’t at all surprised when his soon to be ex-best friend gulps a lung full of air and then starts backing away, holding a giant can of coffee grounds in front of his crotch.

“I’ve got to go…do a thing,” Az sputters, and then turns and hightails it down the aisle, turning once to holler over his shoulder, “it was nice meeting you Frankie!”

Azazel disappears around the corner so fast that Erik has no chance to stop him, and he winces when he hears a gasp fall from Frankie’s lips. He knows an apology is in order; it must be clear to Frankie that Az left with a rather large erection hidden behind his coffee, and will no doubt be jerking off the moment he finds a suitable hiding spot. Yes - 

Erik will apologize profusely and then try to make a semi-dignified exit and go murder Azazel.

“Fuck,” Frankie yells, loud enough and angry enough to make Erik cringe. “Fucking wanker! Goddamn mother fucker I’m going to kill him.”

“I’m sorry! _So_ , so sorry about Azazel,” Erik starts, but Frankie isn’t listening, too busy pulling out his cell phone and hitting the speed dial. He starts yelling again, the moment the phone connects and Erik can do nothing but stand and stare as Frankie starts cursing vehemently at the person on the other end of the line.

“Wesley, you shithead! Goddammit I thought you stopped using that name! What? No, shut up it’s not funny! I’m in the fucking grocery store this time and these two…yes! Yes he’s cute you fuckwit! And I thought he was going to ask me out! But he thinks I’m you and he probably…oh my god I told him I had an _event_ last week with _fifty people_! Wes! Wes! I’m going to kill you. Goddammit!”

Erik’s face must be beet red, his mortification rooting him to the spot as ‘Frankie’ turns to glare at him. He wishes he were dead. No, he wishes Azazel were dead.

Yes, definitely Azazel.

“So…,” Erik manages with a grimace, “you’re not Frankie X. Sorry. Was that…? You know what? Never mind, it’s not my business. I’m truly sorry for bothering you. I’ll just be going now okay? I’m sorry.”

He turns away quickly, and makes it halfway down the aisle before ‘Frankie’ calls out to him. “Wait!”

“Look, I’m truly, _very_ sorry about the mix-up. My friend, he’s—”

“No, that’s not...,” ‘Frankie’ interrupts, pinching the bridge of his nose and letting out a deep sigh. “I’m Charles _Francis_ Xavier. My brother Wesley is the one… _he’s_ ‘Frankie X’. I’m a Professor of Genetics at Columbia.”

“Erik Lehnsherr,” he says, reaching his hand out tentatively for Charles to take. He’s relieved when the professor gives him a wry grin before shaking his hand. “It’s nice to meet you.”

They share a few moments of awkward silence, neither one letting go of the other’s hand as they stare into each other’s eyes. Erik is just about to say something when Charles asks, voice a bit tight, “Are you disappointed then? That you didn’t actually get to meet ‘Frankie X’?”

“Your eyes are blue like the sky,” Erik blurts out, and Charles smiles, looking a little amused and bewildered at the abrupt change of topics. “Frankie’s – I mean your brother Wesley’s eyes aren’t the same shade of blue. And I like your accent. A lot. And the fact that you’re a professor. So no, I’m not disappointed.”

Charles laughs, and it’s probably the loveliest sound that Erik’s heard in his entire life. “Alright then. If I ask you to join me for a cup of coffee, would you say yes?”

“ _Yes please_ ,” he answers immediately, and Charles laughs again, warm and delighted at Erik’s rather heartfelt response. “How about right now?”

“Now is good,” Charles answers and by the time coffee – followed by dinner - is finished, much later that evening, Erik's almost completely forgotten the existence of ‘Frankie X’.

Though he still plans to murder Azazel.


	17. Cerebro

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tumblr Prompt, written for ang3lsh1: _Charles overdoes it with cerebro and has the worst migraine ever and Erik takes care if him._

“I'm fine, stop fussing.”

“You're not fine, Charles. I can feel the damn thing throbbing in the back of _my_ head.”

Erik floats the helmet gently off of Charles' head, careful not to jostle him and aggravate his discomfort. It's going to a particularly bad one, he notes, if Charles is too tired to bother shielding him from the dull ache. He knows he’s getting but a mere echo of the intense pain Charles is dealing with, yet another too long session with Cerebro he insisted was necessary. Again.

_I'll be fine, Darling,_ Charles says, his voice infused with warm affection that's only slightly strained. _It's been fifty years, I've learned to deal with the headaches._

Erik's answer is a disgruntled ‘hmph’, a glower forming on his face so severe that it sends more than one student flying in the opposite direction as they slowly wind their way through the mansion to their bedroom. That Charles just leans back in the chair and lets him float it along without comment is proof enough of his exhaustion.

He's going to have to have another talk with McCoy about these side effects; with all the man's genius and all the leaps in technology, he can’t believe the stupid thing _still_ gives Charles migraines. Apparently he can upgrade its reach to cover the entire planet but can’t be bothered to--

_Erik_ , Charles interrupts, reaching to squeeze his hand lightly before gripping the armrest again. _Stop thinking so loudly about Hank. You’re making it worse._

_Fine,_ he concedes, opening the door to their room and guiding Charles inside, setting his chair next to the bed as he makes his way into the adjoining bathroom. He runs a clean face cloth under cool water, squeezing the excess before returning to find Charles lying on the bed, arm thrown over his eyes. _I’ll let it go for now,_ Erik continues, placing the cloth on Charles forehead with practiced ease. _But this conversation isn’t over. And_ I _will handle the next discussion about Cerebro upgrades with Hank._

_Whatever you say, Darling,_ Charles sends, reaching to pull Erik down beside him. _Thank you for doing this._

He _doesn’t_ say ‘for taking care of me’ though that’s exactly what he means - because Erik doesn’t like to admit how much he needs this and Charles won’t admit how much he craves it.

“Would you like some tea?”

“No, I think I just need sleep.” _Stay with me?_

_Sleep_ , Erik says, sliding his arm under Charles and pulling him close, letting Charles bury his head against his chest. _Sleep and I’ll be here when you wake up._

_I know,_ Charles answers, and Erik feels a feather-like kiss on his brow, intimate and familiar. _I know._   
 


	18. What're The Odds?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tumblr Prompt, written for amaikaminari: _Cherik and Logan/Charles - Competition_
> 
> Modern AU, ‘This Means War’ style!

Between the running, the stabbing and the punching (not to mention the dodging and firing of more than a few – okay hundreds - of bullets), Erik is certain that he’s heard the man wrong.

“What do you mean his name is Charles?” Erik grunts, shoving the Hydra lackey against the door before kneeing him hard in the solar plexus and dropping him like a stone. “ _Charles Xavier_? Professor of Genetics at Columbia? _That_ Charles Xavier?”

Logan kicks the door open into the next room, slamming himself straight into the guard unlucky enough to be on the other side. “Yeah,” he pants, wiping the sweat from his forehead as he picks himself up off the unmoving body. “What? You know him?”

Erik snarls, biting a curse off the tip of his tongue. He takes a moment to switch his assault rifle to his handgun, before signaling Logan to move. “Sure I know him. I’m _dating_ him. Asshole.”

Whatever he expected Logan’s response to be – surprise, anger, disbelief – it’s not _this_ , a chuckle that slowly morphs into a roar of laughter. He continues laughing when three men burst into the room from the corner closest to their exit, letting Erik pick them off one by one as they crouch behind a rack of servers, the bullets whizzing dangerously close to their heads. He’s _still_ laughing when they clear the space and make a mad dash across the rooftop, where the S.H.I.E.L.D. helicopter has just landed for their pick-up.

“Man, I did not expect that,” Logan says, wiping tears – fucking _tears_ – from his eyes as they climb onboard, all but flopping over from exhaustion and pain as the adrenaline starts to subside. “What’re the odds of you and me dating the same guy?”

What are the odds indeed? Erik doesn’t know how Logan would’ve had the opportunity to even meet Charles, the two of _them_ spending more time together on missions than they do with their own families. Erik himself only met Charles through his sister Raven, a newly minted agent that’s taken to following him around as per Fury’s orders. 

“How many dates have you been on?” he asks, dragging himself into a seat across from Logan.

“I don’t know…three?” 

Erik smirks. “We’ve been on _four_ dates. And we’ve got another one Saturday night. He’s clearly more serious about _me_ than he is about _you_.”

Logan quirks an eyebrow at him, pulling out a cigar from somewhere in his body armor (Erik has no idea where – calling their body armor ‘snug’ is an understatement). “Oh yeah? We’ve got a date _tomorrow night_ , bub. And his _lips_ say he’s serious enough ‘bout _me_.”

“You think he’s going to pick you?” Erik scoffs, grabbing a bottle of water from his kit and taking a long drink, ignoring Logan’s glare. “When he can choose _me_ instead?”

There’s a glint in his partner’s eyes, the only warning he ever gets that Logan’s about to suggest something very stupid or very dangerous to their health and wellbeing. The last time Erik saw that look the two of them barely made it off the speedboat in time before it exploded into a raging fireball.

“How about we make it a bet, Lehnsherr?” Logan says, an air of nonchalance that Erik doesn’t buy for a second. “We don’t tell him we know about each other and we let him choose. I don’t interfere with your dates and you don’t interfere with mine. You in?”

Erik snorts, leaning back with his hands behind his head and says, “And what do I get when I win, besides Charles?”

“Whatever you want,” Logan answers, taking a puff of his cigar and giving Erik a grin from ear to ear. “And when _I_ win, you gotta do whatever I tell you. Do we have a deal?”

He thinks back to his date with Charles last week; the way he smiled at Erik all through their dinner and listened with enthusiasm to all his fake work stories. He gives Logan a sharp grin in return. “Yes. You’ve got yourself a deal.”


	19. Double Date

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emma suggests a couple-swap with her friend Charles and his date, Moira. Erik is reluctant...and then pleasantly surprised by the evening's outcome.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tumblr prompt from **Black_Betty** : _I did have an idea today about charles and erik dating other people and meeting each other when one of their partners suggests a couple-swap? And they end up liking each other a HELL of a lot more than their original partner?_

They’re about five minutes away from the restaurant when Erik makes another attempt.

“What if I don’t find her attractive? What if I find her _too_ attractive? What if I hate her personality and can’t…perform?”

It’s a last ditch effort on his part – though not a terribly good one – to get out of the unorthodox outing Emma has planned for the evening. 

He’s still not sure why he agreed to it, and would have suspected Emma’s telepathic ‘encouragement’ if she didn’t already have him wrapped around her imperious little finger.

She reaches over and pats him on the knee, not bothering to hide her amusement at his misgivings. “You’ll be fine. Charles assures me that Moira’s quite beautiful _and_ she has a lovely personality.”

Erik snorts. “How well do you know this ‘Charles’ anyway? Of course _he’s_ going to like her, he’s dating her.”

“I trust his judgment, Erik. I’ve known Charles almost my entire life; I know better than he does what he finds attractive.” Emma smiles, the twinkle in her eye making him wonder what she’s not telling him. Like whether or not her ‘history’ with Charles might be the reason she’s so keen to swap partners for the night. 

“Fine,” he answers, reaching for his wallet as the taxi pulls to a stop. “But I reserve the right to call things off.” _And there’s no chance she’s as gorgeous as you._

Erik flings the doors open with an exaggerated sweep of his arm, making Emma laugh as they tumble out of the taxi. She grins at his rather blatant attempt at flattery and loops her arm through his, tugging him reluctantly towards the bistro’s front door. 

“Trust me, Erik. You’ll thank me for this later, I guarantee it.”

\---

The restaurant is warm and inviting, bustling with activity but not too loud for conversation. It’s an excellent choice if the smells are an indicator of quality, and Erik acknowledges this telepathically – if a little begrudgingly.

“Oh I didn’t pick this place,” Emma says, as the two follow the maître d’ to a quiet and slightly more spacious corner of the bistro. “Charles did. The man has exquisite taste.”

He pulls the chair out for Emma before taking a seat beside her, rolling his eyes. “I bet he does.” 

Luckily, he’s saved from having to hear any more about ‘Charles’ when Emma prompts him to look up, just as their dinner companions walk into view. Plastering on a polite smile, Erik readies himself for their guests; he’s already thinking of ways to make Emma pay for what will no doubt be an excruciating evening filled with awkward tension.

To say that he’s pleasantly surprised is an understatement; Erik finds himself speechless as he stares at the couple now standing in front of him, exchanging excited greetings with Emma. The pair are strikingly beautiful, with matching chocolate tresses and perfect skin. Charles is dressed in a navy blue Armani suit, an impeccable cut that accents his broad shoulders and the ridiculous blue of his eyes. Moira is gorgeous as promised, elegant in a black slip dress that just happens to contrast beautifully against Emma’s sparkling white ensemble. 

“Erik,” Charles says, his voice smooth and flirty, curling around his name like a lover’s caress, “it’s so nice to meet you. Moira and I have been looking forward to this dinner all week.” He doesn’t miss the way Charles squeezes his hand lightly before helping Moira into her seat, or the way Emma’s eyes dart between them before settling on Moira, the women sharing a smile and a knowing look as the waiter hands them their menus.

“Well then,” Moira chuckles, clapping her hands together with unabashed delight, “who’s ready to have some fun?”

\---

“This is not how I expected the evening to go,” Erik pants, some indeterminate amount of time later, lips bruised and hair messy as Charles pushes him against the men’s room wall. He’s so hard it _hurts_ , his erection aching all through dinner as Charles sends lewd image after lewd image at him, until Erik had to excuse himself from the table. And now the two of them are here, with his pants around his ankles and Charles’ hands wrapped around his cock and Erik thinks he owes Emma an apology for ever doubting her.

 _No apology necessary, Dearest,_ he hears, just as Charles takes Erik in his mouth and swallows him down. _Have fun tonight…and Moira and I will bring breakfast over in the morning._


	20. Dreams of You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tumblr prompt from traumschwinge for Charles/Logan post DOFP: 
> 
> _No, but imagine 'Jimmy' waking up at the mansion after Raven dropped him off and the first thing he sees is Charles. They have a lot to talk about. After all, this Charles angel seems to know him, but calls him Logan all the time and James is very confused by that. But he was even more confused when he was immediatly hugged upon waking up and greeted with a "I am so glad he didn't kill you!"_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a number of prompts for Charles/Logan post DOFP that will all take place in the same 'verse. Here's the first one.

Things are a bit better in the morning, his headache gone after the first restful night’s sleep he’s had in what feels like an age. It takes him a few minutes to remember though, exactly where he is – in a spare room in Xavier’s giant mansion where the shape shifter had sent him for some answers. 

He’s still not sure he can believe everything he’s been told by Xavier and McCoy; James has lived a rather interesting life so far but time traveling seems completely out of the realm of possibility. If Xavier hadn’t shown him some of his memories from James’ previous stay…well, even now he finds it all very confusing.

James comes across Xavier in his office, rooting through piles of dusty papers that seem to cover every inch of the solid oak desk. For reasons he can’t begin to fathom, the sight of the man in his wheelchair feels achingly familiar, like the mirror of a phantom image dancing just out of his reach. 

“Ah good morning, Logan,” Xavier says, his smile warm as he rolls out from behind the desk to greet him. “I’m very glad you decided to stay.”

“Wasn’t sure that I would,” he answers truthfully. But he’s seen and heard enough the last few days to make him curious – and that’s a good enough reason to stay put for now. “Busy?”

Xavier chuckles, and James finds himself responding with a smile. “Busier than I’ve been for years. I should thank you that. Hank and I have a lot of work to do but I think we’ll be able to get the School up and running again in a few months.” 

Charles – and the man insists that James call him by his first name – spends the next hour sharing his plans for the School’s reopening, with an enthusiasm that James finds inexplicably reassuring. He wonders about his relationship with Charles in his ‘other life’. Were they good friends? If so, it would explain their rapport and the way his gut is telling James to trust him. 

What it _doesn’t_ explain, are the dreams he’s been having since he woke up four days ago, Mystique staring at him from the other side of a grungy motel room. Dreams of too blue eyes and a voice full of despair. Of pain and loss and hope and an undeniable longing.

Dreams apparently, of one Charles Xavier.


	21. Raven's Show

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An outtake from 'Lost and then Found'. The first time Charles meets Steve Rogers.

The evening is an astounding success, the early buzz almost unanimously positive for Raven’s newest collection. In a quiet corner of the room Charles watches as his sister makes the requisite rounds, greeting friends and potential buyers with seemingly boundless energy. He can’t quite hide a proud smile as he looks on – Charles was the first to support Raven’s decision to become an artist after all – but he’s really in no mood to mingle with strangers tonight.

He should have put his foot down and said no, instead of letting Raven drag him to her show.

His eyes roam through the gallery, flitting between each familiar piece before he’s drawn back again and again to the painting in the middle of the room. It’s one of the highlights of the night, and undoubtedly some of Raven’s best work to date.

It’s also a painting of his ex-husband, a striking silhouette of Erik’s unmistakable frame walking briskly in the rain.

There’s a small crowd gathered around the easel now, and he tries to imagine their conversations. Do they make up little stories about the man in the painting? Debate who he is? Guess at what he’s thinking as he wanders the New York City sidewalks late at night? 

Charles wrenches his eyes away and downs the rest of his wine, giving the waiter a halfhearted smile when he takes the empty glass from his hands. He wonders how much longer he has to stay; he’d much rather be home grading papers than being reminded of—

“I’d say another fifteen minutes,” a voice says from Charles’ right, “after Raven gives her speech. Then you can probably sneak out.”

He doesn’t bother to hide his chuckle, turning to face the man who seems to have appeared out of thin air at his side. The stranger is almost ridiculously attractive, tall, blond and muscular in a way that makes Charles stare in slightly bewildered awe. It’s been a long time since he’s felt the kind of instant connection he’s feeling now; the last time would have been Erik all those years ago in the coffee shop.

“How did you know I was planning to sneak out?” Charles asks, once he finds his voice again.

“Your body language,” the man answers, “and the fact that you keep looking at your watch every couple of minutes.”

“And how long have you been watching me, Mr.…”

“It’s Steve Rogers, but please call me Steve. I was actually looking for you…your sister told me—”

Charles groans; of course it was Raven and her relentless crusade to get him out of the house and on a date. “I’m sorry Steve but whatever my sister might have told you, I’m not interested.”

“I see,” Steve says, voice suitably apologetic though he’s still smiling warmly at Charles. “Would you still like some help sneaking out after her speech?”

The offer surprises Charles enough to make him laugh, the tension in his gut melting away as they share knowing looks at an unsuspecting Raven across the room. Steve excuses himself briefly to grab a passing waiter, returning with two glasses of wine and handing one to Charles with a soft smile.

For a split second, Charles sees the possibilities laid out clearly in front of him. He can spend the rest of the night feeling sorry for himself and missing Erik, wandering listlessly around the empty brownstone. Or he can make a new friend and see where it takes him, leaving the pain and the heartache in the past where they belong.

“Charles Xavier,” he says, taking the glass with one hand and offering the other for Steve to shake. “Would you like to join me for coffee after the show?”


	22. Come And Get Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little snippet of Charles/Logan sex, inspired by this [amazing art by dwaroxxx](http://dwaroxxx.tumblr.com/post/100336779156/something-a-little-nsfw-sh-going-on-under-the-cut).

“Are you sure about this?” Logan asks, even as he lifts Charles effortlessly, hands sliding under the ratty bathrobe to grip his thighs hard.

“Shut up and fuck me,” is the answer he gets, before Charles dives in and bites his lip, arms wrapping tightly around Logan’s neck. He takes a step, and then another, making his way towards the bed as the Prof. peppers his lips with kisses, licking and biting at Logan’s neck with naked fervour. “Make me feel it.”

He drops them both onto the sheets with a grunt, landing on his knees with Charles on top of him, rubbing their erections together with a needy moan. It’s so good, the taste of his lips and the way he leans into Logan’s touch. Charles is eager for it - _hungry_ for it – urging him on every time Logan slows down even a little, wary of moving too fast.

“What do you want?” he pants, and he can feel the grin spread against his lips, before Charles is thrusting his tongue back inside Logan’s mouth with a soft groan. Pulling away even slightly drags a pitiful whine from the Prof. but Logan is determined to make it good – no, make that spectacular – for the both of them. “Tell me what you want, Charles.”

He works to slip the robe off Charles’ shoulders with one hand, the other moving to cup the swell of his ass. Logan wants to spend hours…days…weeks even, doing nothing but worshipping every inch of the body in his arms. But Charles seems to have a rather different idea in mind, snarling with impatience at Logan’s careful exploration, all but tearing the robe off before flopping backwards on the bed.

“Come on,” he says with a smirk, as Logan drinks in the sight of the Prof. splayed naked before him, hand stroking his leaking cock. “Come and get me.”


	23. Taking the Leap

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another outtake from 'Lost and then Found'. Steve and Charles go on their fourth date and Charles tries something new.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As far as I'm concerned, there's never enough fic of Charles/not!Erik in this fandom (as much as I adore Cherik). So here's another small contribution to the Charles/Steve Rogers tag! :D

“So…where are we going again?” he asks for the third time in an hour, eyes scanning the passing scenery for clues. They’ve been driving now for an hour and a half and Charles is still no closer to guessing their destination. Steve had given him very little information about their date, suggesting only that Charles ‘dress comfortably for the outdoors.’ 

Taking his eyes off the road for a moment Steve winks at him, the grin on his face more than a little infectious. “You’ll see.”

“You’re not kidnapping me are you?” Charles asks, laughing when Steve makes a terrible ‘I’m a scary bad man’ face. “I’m not sure Raven would pay ransom money to get me back.”

“Don’t worry, I’m not kidnapping you,” Steve says, chuckling when Charles lets out an exaggerated sigh of relief. “We’re just going to visit an old friend of mine.”

“Oh?”

“He’s an old Army buddy. Sam Wilson.”

Charles is intrigued; this is only their fourth date (if you count coffee the night they met as their first) and Steve has spoken very little thus far about his time in the service. He knows only that Steve has lived and witnessed some terrible things, and lost his best friend early on during his tour in Afghanistan. 

“Is he meeting us for lunch? A hike? Paintball?” Charles laughs at the last suggestion; it’s been years since he’s gone paintballing, though he’s confident he can still hit a target or two.

Steve chuckles, a devilish glint in his eye. “Not paintball. Though I’ll keep that in mind for next time.”

Charles rolls his eyes, settling back into the seat again with a playful huff. He’s having fun, he thinks rather suddenly, as Steve turns the radio up and starts singing along to Bruce Springsteen. He’s relaxed and not feeling sorry for himself for the first time in…what feels like forever it seems. When Charles glances at the clock he realizes he hasn’t thought about Erik once in over an _hour_ , and it’s such an unexpected shock that he starts to laugh.

“What’s so funny?” Steve asks.

“Nothing,” Charles answers and Steve just smiles at him, turning his attention back to the road. They drive for another ten minutes in comfortable silence, before Steve directs his attention to the large sign on their left as they turn off the main road. 

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Charles breathes, looking back and forth between Steve, the sign and the hangar looming up ahead. “Are you really…are we going…?”

They come to a stop in front of the main entrance, pulling right into the parking space marked ‘Wilson’. Steve turns to Charles, grinning from ear to ear and says, “We’re going skydiving.”

\---

“So…do you bring all your dates here,” Charles shouts, as Steve chuckles in his ear. He clings a little harder to the arm that’s around his chest, trying to calm his racing heart as they get ready to jump. Charles is strapped to Steve in a double harness – which does make him feel much better about this whole crazy idea – and Sam is watching them both with a smile from his place by the door. 

Apparently he’s going to jump right after them, with plans to film Charles and Steve on their way down. 

“Nah, just the ones he likes a lot,” Sam answers, laughing as he pats Charles on the shoulder. “Or ones he never wants to hear from again. Either way, you’re the only one so far.”

“This will be fun,” Steve promises and Charles is inclined to believe him, even if his mouth has gone a bit dry at the thought of jumping out of a perfectly serviceable airplane. “I’ve done this dozens of times before and I’ll be with you the entire time. But you don’t have to do this Charles, if you don’t want to. You can change your mind right now and we’ll call this off. It’s your choice.”

He considers saying it, telling Steve that he’s changed his mind and doesn’t want to jump after all. Charles has spent the last year and half so desperate to maintain control, wrapping his emotions around himself like steel bands. The idea of letting it all go – literally and figuratively - scares him half to death, even for the few short minutes it’ll take to get back on solid ground. 

“No.” He means to squash his own misgivings, not realizing he’s said it out loud until he feels Steve shifting his weight behind him. “I mean yes! I want to jump. I do.”

“Charles—”

“Steve, please,” he interrupts, giving Steve’s arm a reassuring squeeze. “I want to jump. Really. I’m ready.”

“You’re sure?” Steve asks, as the door slides open and they move into position.

The view is incredible, nothing but blue sky and earth in greens and browns. Standing here on the precipice, Charles can see an entire world of possibilities laid out at his feet. He just has to _want_ it, and then step over the edge into something exhilarating and new.

He’s telling Steve the honest truth when he answers. “Yes, I’m sure.”

Steve takes his hand.

They jump.


	24. Hallowe'en Treat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Logan's a werewolf and Erik's a vampire and the two are working the bar on Hallowe'en. They meet Charles, who may or may not be dressed as a virgin sacrifice.

“Really Lehnsherr? A vampire again?”

Erik glares at his partner, best friend and pain in his ass and says, voice dripping with sarcasm, “Really Logan? A werewolf? _Again?_ ”

The grin grows into a full smirk as Logan flexes his enormous bicep, throwing a wink at the mass of thirsty university kids waiting to be served. “What? I’ve got the muscles for it.”

The crowd around them cheers, a few whistling loudly as Logan fills their drink orders as fast as they can yell them out. Erik scoffs as the man shamelessly preens for his admirers in nothing but a pair of ripped jeans and the bare remnants of a t-shirt. His own costume is extravagant in contrast, a stunning cape in blood red, draped over a white dress shirt (completely unbuttoned to show off his abs) and the tightest pair of black pants he owns.

Their tips are going to be _very_ good tonight.

The next couple of hours fly by, Erik and Logan both swamped with the never ending crush of Hallowe’en partygoers getting drunker and rowdier by the minute. They’ve each received more than a few phone numbers (from men _and_ women, the drunk and not so drunk) and a few kisses, losing bits of their costume along the way. Logan is shirtless now, his poor excuse for a t-shirt having been yanked off by a particularly handsy group of 'nuns', while Erik lost his flowing red cape to an overzealous genie who kept asking him to ‘rub his lamp’.

By midnight, Erik’s ready to throw everyone out of their bar, his tolerance for drunken idiots in costume sinking dangerously low. But before he can make the suggestion Logan elbows him in the side, almost spilling the drink in Erik’s hand over the both of them.

“What the fuck?” he growls but Logan ignores him, grabbing him by the arm and turning him around...where he finds himself face to face with the most gorgeous man he’s ever seen.

“Hello,” the stranger says and Erik can’t stop staring at him, all freckles and tousled hair and big blue eyes twinkling with amusement. He’s dressed in some kind of white toga, the material not covering _nearly_ enough of him to be considered decent (though Erik’s not complaining, not at _all_ ). There is entirely too much skin and glistening muscle and…god is he covered in _oil_?

“What can we get you?” Logan asks with a sly grin curving his lips. The bastard doesn’t seem affected at all, and how is that even possible when Erik is standing there with the biggest erection of his entire life?

“Draught please,” the perfect creature answers, giving them both a dazzling smile. “I’m Charles.”

“Nice to meet you, Charles. I’m Logan. And this is Erik. He’s supposed to be a vampire.”

“I can see that,” Charles agrees, leaning across the counter and running a finger along the edge of Erik’s shirt, lightly grazing his chest. “The teeth. They look perfect. For _biting._ ”

Erik’s very tight pants suddenly seem to shrink another size. “Umm, yes…and you look…good. _So_ good. What are you supposed to be?”

Logan leans closer and rakes his eyes up and down Charles’ body. “You some kind of Greek philosopher? God? Virgin sacrifice?”

Charles laughs and laughs, tossing his head back and baring even more of his very lovely neck, a tempting target for Erik’s sudden and overwhelming urge to _mark_. Logan doesn’t look any better, staring at Charles like he’s the world’s biggest and most expensive steak dinner.

“How about…” Charles offers, grabbing their hands and tugging them close, “I show you. Both of you. Later.”

Erik swallows, his mouth dry as the desert. “Later.”

“Fuck yeah,” Logan whispers.

Charles smiles.

\---

“Roman Emperor,” Charles pants, two hours later, as he drives his cock in and out of Erik’s mouth. He’s completely naked and straddling Erik who is laying on top of the bar, his hands gripping Charles’ hips as he moves. Logan is standing at the end of the counter between Erik’s legs, busy working tongue and fingers deep inside Charles.

“Good choice,” Logan mutters and Erik moans in agreement, mouth too full for words. Charles just rolls his hips and sighs, hands reaching back to spread himself even wider for Logan.

“Glad you approve,” Charles groans, hips stuttering as Erik takes the entire length of him down his throat. “Now shut up and fuck me.”


	25. Learn to Share

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Written for this prompt: Post-Dofp, Erik finally comes back to Charles only to find that he's with Logan now. They both have to learn to share.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was tough to write - mostly because I have a hard time thinking of Erik as the sharing type, at least in canon fic! :D

When Erik wanders into the kitchen after his morning run, he finds Logan - still in his uniform - waiting for him.

"Did you get them out?" he asks, walking past Logan without so much as a glance, swinging the fridge door open with a flick of his fingers and reaching for the orange juice. 

"What? No ‘welcome home’, Lehnsherr? ‘Nice to see you back in one piece?’"

Erik ignores him, pouring himself a glass of juice before popping a slice of bread in the toaster. Unfortunately, Logan doesn’t budge from his seat at the kitchen table, arms crossed and legs stretched out in front of him as he stares bemusedly at Erik.

"We got them all out. Hank is giving them a quick check up before sending them to bed. Alex and Raven are getting their rooms ready."

"Good."

They sit in silence - not quite awkward but definitely not companionable - as Erik eats his breakfast and Logan takes an occasional sip from his cup of coffee. Finally, Logan stands and stretches, slowly making his way over to the kitchen sink with the empty cup. “I think I’ll go check on Charles now.”

"He’s still sleeping," Erik grunts.

"I’ll wake him up," Logan says with a grin. "He likes it when I wake him up."

It still takes all of his will power and self-discipline, all these months later, for Erik not to drive every piece of metal in the room through the man’s body. He has to remind himself every minute of every day that he agreed to this ‘arrangement’, for Charles’ sake.

And for his own, to have Charles in his life again.

He grits his teeth and says with a vicious leer, “I doubt it. I kept him up pretty late last night.”

Logan just shrugs, smile still firmly planted on his lips as he makes his way past Erik. “Oh well. He and I’ll have lots of time to catch up while you’re gone. Won’t we Lehnsherr?”

"Fuck you."

He turns and shoots Erik a smug look, before walking towards the door. “See you in a few days, bub. I’ll keep the bed nice and warm for ya.”

Erik’s answer is to hurl the chef’s knife from the butcher’s block through the air and into the door frame, just inches from the man’s head. But Logan is entirely unfazed, his laughter echoing in the empty hallway, floating back to taunt Erik as he makes his way up the stairs.

Just four days, he thinks as he finishes his breakfast, going over the plans for the mission in his head.

Four days, before he’s back at the Mansion.

Four days and he’ll have Charles all to himself again.


	26. Forbidden Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Charles must help his lover flee before sunrise.
> 
> With Vampire!Charles and Werewolf!Logan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edited version of [this post](http://gerec.tumblr.com/post/102584382736/forbidden-love-loving-you-thats-my) (with gif set) on tumblr. 
> 
> SEE BELOW FOR CHAPTER WARNINGS!

It’s the first thing he hears, whisper soft against his ear.

“Logan.”

His limbs ache and his eyes hurt, the pain of transformation nothing compared to the gaping wounds littering his now human body.

“We have to go. Now. Quickly.”

They run, the sounds of battle echoing in the halls, howls of rage and pain dogging their every step. He struggles, blood dripping from his wounds, eyes threatening to close if not for the commands he must obey, sharp and desperate.

“Move!”

“Faster. They’re gaining on us.”

“Come on, Logan. We’re almost there.”

He’s half dragged, half carried down the long tunnel, leaving a trail of crimson against the castle’s cold stone floors. Logan wants to turn back and fight, but the arms around him grip like a vise, immoveable as the mountain on which they stand.

The tunnel opens onto the cliff side, the path leading down to the water treacherous and steep. It's close to dawn, the sky above tinted purple to welcome the first rays of the morning sun.

“You have to go back, Charles,” Logan rasps, his breathing stilted and weak. 

“There’s a boat down there, tied to the dock. We need to get you as far away from this place as we can before night fall.”

Logan shakes his head, and tries to push Charles back towards the tunnel entrance. “I can make it. You have to get inside before sunrise.”

Charles grabs him and kisses him hard, eyes bright with conviction. “I’m not leaving you.”

He protests and Charles pretends not to hear, as they stumble their way down the side of the mountain. By the time they reach the dock and Charles sets Logan down in the small fishing boat, the light is just coming over the horizon, a sea of orange over a sea of blue.

“Go,” Logan says, giving Charles a weak shove. “Before it’s too late.”

Charles smiles, his eyes soft and sad as he brushes his hand across Logan’s cheek. “We both know...it’s already too late.”

“No!” he snarls, trying – and failing – to push himself up and off the boat. “You can make it. You must!”

Leaping onto the boat beside him with lethal grace, Charles severs the rope and quickly sets the boat adrift. He sits and wraps his arms around Logan, beautiful and serene as they float towards the rising sun.

“You’re the Prince,” Logan protests, his throat so tight he can scarcely breathe. “You were meant for great things. To have a life with purpose. Not throw it all away for a wretched slave like me.”

Lips, soft and warm, brush lightly against Logan’s temple. “Loving you. That’s my purpose,” Charles answers. “You must live for me, as I’ve lived for you.”

The light sparkles across the water as Logan pulls Charles into his arms and kisses him goodbye. Tears, fierce and unending fall from Logan’s face, as inexorable as the sunrise. And when the gentle rays finally catch their boat in its warm embrace, Logan is the one who screams – and continues to scream, long after the sun rises high in the sky, the ashes slipping through his fingers and floating away with the breeze.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Character death


	27. In Good Company

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just a little taste of 'The Hellfire Club' Sequel I've had in the back of my head for AGES. This takes place about a year after the end of THC, and Alex is an undercover officer who has infiltrated the organization run by one Erik Lehnsherr...

Alex Summers is going to die.

He lives every day with the knowledge that he can die at any moment; has known since the day he agreed to take the assignment from MacTaggert that this was a very real possibility. Knows that he needs to be smart, and to always be on guard if he doesn’t want to find himself on the business end of a gun.

Or worse.

If he was a betting man (and he’s _not_ , that would be Cassidy) he’d have guessed Lehnsherr to be the one to pull the trigger. Or Darkholme, who’s only job in the organization is to make people disappear. Or even Logan, who takes any threats – real or imagined - against the Hellfire Club very, very seriously.

He does not expect to die like _this_ , beaten and trussed up like a turkey on Thanksgiving, dumped by his kidnappers in an empty warehouse.

Well, _almost_ empty warehouse – he’s got Charles Xavier of all people for company.

Charles is laying on his side on the cold cement floor, roughed up but in slightly better shape than Alex. It seems that their captors aren’t _completely_ stupid, and have decided to keep their bargaining chip in relatively good condition.

Though the fact that they’ve kidnapped Lehnsherr’s…partner? eye candy? bit on the side?...makes any claim to intelligence laughable indeed.

He takes stock of their surroundings, noting windows too high off the ground to reach without assistance and a lack of any usable equipment, junk or otherwise to get them out. There’s just the two of them, their hands bound behind their backs and linked together by a chain, and what seems like miles and miles of concrete in all directions. There are doors at either end of the building, guaranteed to either be locked up tight or guarded by some of Lehnsherr’s not so friendly business associates.

No matter, because even if they manage to find a way out, Alex is still going to die.

He’s going to die because _Logan_ is definitely going to kill him, for failing to protect Charles and letting them both get knocked out and dragged god knows where by one of Lehnsherr’s many enemies. It’s taken Alex months to get on the coveted bodyguard rotation, and it’s only the first time he’s been allowed out with Xavier without Logan by their side.

Yeah, he’s definitely going to die. And that’s before _Lehnsherr_ gets his hands on him.

“That’s quite the frown Mr. Alexander. Don’t worry, we’ll be alright.”

Alex watches as Xavier pushes himself up into a sitting position, looking ruffled but rather unworried for someone being held hostage against his will.  Perhaps he’s used to this sort of thing; between Sebastian Shaw and Erik Lehnsherr, Charles has been living life as a mob boss’ lover for over twelve years.

“You sound pretty confident Mr. Xavier,” he answers, “though I can guess why. I imagine the boss will agree to just about anything to get you back unharmed.”

Charles laughs, propping himself against the wall beside Alex and shifting awkwardly in an attempt to get more comfortable. He turns to give Alex an assessing look, before smiling broadly and shaking his head.

“Oh my dear Gabe,” he chuckles, eyes crinkling with mirth. “You should know by now that Erik doesn’t negotiate. I think our friends will soon find themselves very, very sorry that they dared to cross him. In fact, I’d guarantee it.”


	28. Countless Lifetimes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sequel to [Forbidden Love](http://archiveofourown.org/works/902067/chapters/5841170).
> 
> Gifset [here](http://gerec.tumblr.com/post/114004207931/countless-lifetimes-sequel-to-forbidden-love).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those who are interested, all my **new movie au ficlets** along with the ones previously posted can be found [here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/3588831/chapters/7914687).

_"Live for me, as I’ve lived for you."_

Those are the words he clings to, in the days and weeks that follow his escape. That gentle voice, imbued with quiet strength, fill his waking moments and restless dreams as the months slowly become years, and the years become decades.

Now, after hundreds of years and countless lifetimes of wandering, he still yearns for his long lost lover. Of waking in his soft embrace, lips pressing a line of kisses from the tip of his ear to the bridge of his nose. Of the sound of sweet laughter and the taste of warm skin, the way they fit together perfectly, in both spirit and body.

He looks for signs of him, in every city and every port, in countless restaurants and countless shops, though he knows in his heart that it’s a fruitless search. Ashes scattered by the wind were swallowed by the sea, nothing left of the vibrant soul he’d sworn to love for eternity.  

Yet he searches, and can not stop.

—-

Today he stops for a coffee, in a little place with a view of the sea. 

There is a man sitting with his back to him and looking out the window, with raven hair and broad shoulders and freckles on his skin. He does not look though, for he is tired; too tired for the gut wrenching heartache he still feels, every single time he looks and is inevitably disappointed.

But today, after so many, many days, he finally finds what he’s been searching for.

A voice so familiar; so soft, so  _beloved,_ reaching to him across the centuries.

“Logan.”


	29. The Morning After

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Written for this prompt: _‘we’re two thirds of the threesome we had last night and we’re walking awkwardly out of the last persons’s apartment together’ au_

The door closes behind them with a soft click, and Erik is left standing in the empty hallway with a stranger, with no idea what to do or say next.

By the awkward shifting that’s happening beside him, he’s fairly certain that Logan feels the exact same way.

It had been a lot less awkward 6 hours ago, when the three of them had stumbled into Charles’ apartment, their hands and lips grappling rather indiscriminately, before spilling into a heap of skin and muscle onto Charles’ couch.

And then his floor.

And then his hallway.

And then his bed.

It’s hard to know how to act, and Erik’s never been great with the implied rules of leaving a one night stand gracefully. It feels ten times worse after a threesome - and his first one at that - having to interact with a man he only met 8 hours before.

A man who had his cock in Erik’s ass not that long ago.

“So…” he says, tugging a little on the collar of his shirt. He glances quickly at Logan out of the corner of his eye, and sees that the man is watching him. Straightening up to his full height he turns to face Logan directly; he’s going to say a quick goodbye and then head to the elevators alone. He hasn’t known the man for very long but Erik would bet that like  _him_ , Logan’s a man of few words.

“I guess—”

“Wanna grab some breakfast?” Logan asks, muttering a bit under his breath so it takes Erik a few seconds before he really understands what was said. Did Logan just ask him…out?

“Listen bub, don’t get your panties in a twist alright?” Logan says impatiently, probably responding to the panicked look on Erik’s face. “I ain’t asking you on a date. I’m starving and I bet you’re starving and there’s a diner with a nice breakfast just around the corner. What do you say?”

He bristles, and promptly forgets about the awkwardness of the situation. It’s probably a bad idea to spend any time with this man outside of the bedroom, considering how much he’s already getting on Erik’s nerves. But he’s right about one thing - he  _is_ hungry. Charles really worked them hard last night. Pun intended.

“Fine,” he answers, and stalks down the hall, not bothering to wait for Logan to catch up. “But I’m not paying for you.”


	30. Prof X Is Totally A Babe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (AKA How My Dad Used to Date My Crush by Lorna Dane)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gifset [here](http://gerec.tumblr.com/post/120950208296/prof-x-is-totally-a-babe-aka-how-my-dad-used-to).

“Oh my god, he’s here!” Lorna exclaims, a slightly manic gleam in her eye that has Erik a little worried - the cutlery on their table is starting to levitate, and she barely even notices as he tugs them back down with a sigh. 

“Who’s here? One of your celebrity crushes?’ he mocks, used to the nonsensical chattering of excited seventeen year olds; Lorna’s friends are over so often that he’s all but adopted Jean and Ororo as his own.

Lorna is texting so fast that her hands are almost a blur, muttering the words under her breath as she types. “Prof X sighting. Studio Cafe. Blue T. Arm porn! Sunglasses! Bedhead! Super hot!!!!!”

That gets Erik’s attention; he’s known about Lorna’s obsession with her First Year Genetics professor for a while, and chalked it up to nothing more than a harmless crush. Now, as he watches her breathless fumbling - checking her teeth in her compact and fixing her shirt - it’s only natural that his protective instincts choose this exact moment to make a rather abrupt appearance.

“Breathe Lorna,” he chastises, handing her a glass of water and shaking his head. “I don’t understand the big deal with this guy? What is so great about some boring old science professor? He’s probably old enough to be your Dad.”

Lorna scoffs. “ _You’re_ barely old enough to be my Dad, and I think he’s a couple of years younger than you.” She continues to stare surreptitiously at a booth across the restaurant and situated behind Erik, while he tries very hard not to roll his eyes. “Anyway, he’s  _brilliant._  And incredibly kind and so nice to his students. Oh and he’s got the sexiest English accent I’ve ever–”

She abruptly cuts off the list of the man’s virtues, straightening her shoulders and plastering a wide smile on her face. Hissing the words through her teeth, her eyes wide as saucers - Erik has a hard time keeping his laughter reined in at the sight of Lorna's panicked expression.

“Shh Dad! He’s coming this way!”

Sure enough, about five seconds later, a man's voice calls out a warm greeting. “Ms. Dane, how nice to see you here! And looking so lovely this fine morning.”

That voice. Erik knows that voice.

That voice belongs to  _Charles._

Charles  _Xavier._

Prof X.

“—Professor I'd like to introduce you to my Dad, Erik Lehnsherr.”

He’s shaking Charles’ hand before the shock has a chance to wear off, broad fingers slipping easily between his own longer ones. Charles is smiling at him, eyes crinkling behind a pair of wide aviators, and Erik is bombarded with so many memories at once that he almost forgets to breathe.

“Hello, Erik. It’s been a long time.”

“Yes. Charles. Yes.”

Lorna looks back and forth between the two men, who are still holding each other’s hands and frowns. “Do you two know each other?”

“Yes, we–”

“Knew each other at Oxford,” Charles interrupts, his genial smile slipping just slightly before he turns his attention back to Lorna. “We had some classes together…really, it's nice to see you again, Erik. And you Ms. Dane, I’ll see you Monday. Don’t forget to read the two chapters I assigned. Have a nice day.”

He breezes out the door, arm in arm with an icy blonde Erik doesn’t recognize, and is half way down the street before Erik can even think of an appropriate response. Lorna is glaring at him from the other side of the table, looking less than impressed and a whole lot confused.

“What. Was. That?”

“What was what?” he tries, taking a sip of his coffee and pointedly not looking at his daughter.

“I mean  _what did you do_ ,” Lorna demands, and he should really be more annoyed with her for assuming that  _Erik's_  the one that did something wrong.

“Nothing, it was a long time ago.” He puts his coffee down and waves at the waiter for their bill. “Nothing.”

Lorna doesn’t buy it of course, and settles back in her chair, crossing her arms in front of her chest. “That wasn’t nothing. That was something. A  _big_ something, and I want to know, since I'm the one that has to see him twice a week.”

“Fine,” he agrees, and throws his napkin on the table with a sigh. “But it’s a long story.”

“We’ve got all day, Dad.”

Erik isn’t certain that a day is enough, to tell everything there is to tell about Charles Xavier and their messy and complicated past. “I met Charles at Oxford, like he said. We…fell in love, and it was the best thing that ever happened to me…”


	31. Not his Charles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The mob boss and his enforcer… a love story a.k.a.
> 
> Charles Xavier almost died protecting Erik...and now Erik doesn't recognize the man he's become.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by [this](http://letosatie.tumblr.com/post/119429041534/the-mob-boss-and-his-enforcer-a-love-story) gifset, and meant to be read as an addendum to Widgenstain's [excellent snippet!](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1028508/chapters/9315760)
> 
> **Warning for Blood, Violence and Gore.**

He is vigilant. Wary. Surrounded by the best that money can buy.

At his side is the world’s most powerful telepath. There is nothing to fear, and no one can stand in his way. 

There is no one brave enough - or stupid enough - to try.

He is wrong. 

—-

The end comes in the shape of a plastic bullet, inside a plastic gun, held in the hands of a killer wearing a helmet. 

They don’t see him coming. 

Erik is on the floor in an instant, Charles knocking him from the bullet’s path, the sound of the gunshot ringing in his ears. When he opens his eyes, Charles is sprawled across his chest, thick rivulets of blood gushing from the bullet wound just above his ear.

He screams, heart plummeting as he moves to cradle Charles in his arms. It is Raven who finally wrestles her still breathing brother away; McCoy that stems the flow of blood pooling on the hardwood floor. 

They carry Charles to the operating room, leaving Erik to deal with their attacker. Azazel has the man’s helmet under one arm while Frost’s diamond encrusted boot pins him helplessly to the ground. Metal piping peels itself out of the wall with a grating whine, and wraps itself around the man’s neck like a noose. It constricts slowly, bit by agonizing bit, as the man thrashes and chokes for air. Erik does not stop; not when the lips turn purple and the body goes limp. Not when the neck snaps and a river of blood pours from the gaping wounds.

He does not stop; not until the head is no longer attached to the body.

—-

Charles does not die, but he does not wake from his coma.

McCoy shows him the device, two months after the incident. It will fix some of the damage done to the telepath’s brain, he says, but Charles may never be the same.

Erik doesn’t hesitate. He wants his lover back at all cost. Any cost.

When Charles opens his eyes, Erik is sitting next to him, holding his hand. The telepath does not smile or acknowledge him; does not squeeze his hand or say hello. He only stares intently at Erik’s face, expression sharp and feral, a hint of mania behind those sky blue eyes.

Charles Xavier died protecting Erik from a plastic bullet. The creature that shares his bed now is not his Charles.

This man is ruthless and cold, always teetering on the edge of violence. He kills indiscriminately and without remorse; hungers constantly for the thrill of the hunt. 

He is beautiful and powerful and deadly, and he belongs solely to Erik. 

But he is not  _his_  Charles, though Erik has no regrets.

It was the only way to save him.


	32. Change For Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Charles interrupts sex with Logan to ask an important question.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Birthday ficlet for the lovely Nikorys; this is Xavierine werewolf/human smutty times, based on my fic with Lachatblanche 'For You, Eternity'. This is yet to take place in the main timeline of the story.

“Change for me.”

Logan stopped moving his hips, Charles’ words cutting through the haze of their passionate love making like a bucket of cold water being dumped on his head. “What?”

Charles’ response was to moan in protest as he sank down, his hands carding through Logan’s chest hair with an impatient huff. “Don’t stop,” he panted, “why are you stopping?”

“What you said…what do you mean?”

“Oh.” Charles shifted on top of him, dragging a groan from Logan as he leaned down and pressed a heated kiss to parted lips. “I was curious…what you would feel like inside me, in your other form.”

He stiffened at the mere idea, though Charles was quick to run his hands along his biceps in an attempt to sooth. Logan shook his head. “No.”

“No?” Charles asked, his forehead furrowing at Logan’s easy dismissal. “Just like that? No. Why not? I’ve seen you in your were-form, Logan. I know what--”

With a snarl, he rolled them over on the bed, pressing Charles beneath him and grinding deep. He grabbed his lover’s wrists and pinned them on either side of his head, and proceeded to distract him, fucking him like a man possessed.

“Lo…Logan!” Charles finally managed to say, his words clipped short by each hard shove of Logan’s hips. “Pl…please! I want…to…to see…you!”

He stilled, and sank so deep that it made Charles throw his head back, baring his neck with a long and stuttering groan. Logan stared down at the man he’d come to cherish over such a short time, and tried to explain his misgivings. “I could…I don’t want to hurt you, Charles. Not ever.”

Charles smiled, his eyes softening with fondness. “You could never. I trust you.”

“It’s not safe. I could lose control. It’s too risky.”

But it seemed that Charles would not be deterred. He pulled his arms loose, and reached to cup Logan’s face tenderly between his palms. “I want to know all of you, Logan. Every part of you. I’m not afraid.”

In all his long years Logan had never met anyone like Charles, with such a brilliant mind and insatiable curiosity. Even from their first meeting he had found it difficult to resist the man’s unique blend of arrogance and charm, and now it was nigh on impossible to deny Charles anything he desired.

“You’re sure?” he asked, taking Charles’ mouth once more. He started to move again, and felt his lover clench, rocking in time with his thrusts. “Once I change, I won’t be able to change back. Not until I’ve knotted you.”

Charles looked surprised, and then determined, before he murmured his answer against Logan’s lips. “Do it. I’m sure.”

He had transformed in the middle of sex before, but only with another of his pack and never when they were already tied. It would be much too easy to injure Charles unwittingly, as the wolf in him tore itself free. “Don’t move,” he cautioned, and pulled Charles’ hands above his head, pinning him immobile against the bed. “And don’t try to touch me.”

He kept his hand tight around Charles’ wrists and watched his lover’s face intently as he willed his body to change. Charles’ eyes went wide as Logan’s muscles morphed and flexed around him, fur and claws and teeth springing from their hiding place until the man was no longer recognizable in the beast. He growled low as his senses sharpened and Charles’ scent filled his nostrils, ripe and sweet. And he grunted as his lover writhed against him, Logan’s cock growing thicker and longer in his wolf form.

With a snarl he pulled out and rolled Charles onto his hands and knees, his claws digging red marks in the pale and smooth skin. Charles cried out as Logan pushed into him without pause and rutted against him, feral and possessive as he staked his claim. He heard nothing now but the blood that sang through his veins, and felt nothing but the tight heat of his chosen mate.

Distantly Logan heard his name, moans and whimpers as he chased his release with savage lust. He licked whatever skin he could reach with his tongue, and reveled in the clench around his cock as he drove himself relentlessly into Charles’ body. And when his knot slipped inside and began to swell, he bit down on soft flesh and drew blood, tearing a pleasured scream from his mate. He pushed harder, and howled as he came, hot and sticky spurts that filled Charles to overflowing.

\---

When he opened his eyes, Logan was once again in his human form, his body curled around Charles and tied together by his knot. He grimaced as he took in the bruises and bite marks all over his lover’s skin, and could only be thankful that he had done no real damage.

“Welcome back,” Charles whispered, and he pressed a soft kiss to the hand Logan had wrapped around him. “Are you alright?”

Logan snorted, “I should be asking you that question.” His tone softened as his hand slid down to rest on Charles’ hip. “Did I hurt you? Did you…?”

“Did I like it? Yes. Very much,” he answered with a grin. “And no, you didn’t hurt me. Nothing I can’t handle. And nothing you can’t kiss better.”

“Are you sure you’re alright?” Logan did not want Charles to lie to spare his feelings. He would never forgive himself if he hurt someone so important to him.

“I came, when you…knotted me,” Charles said, his face flushing pink with embarrassment. “I’ve never felt anything like it, Logan. It was incredible.”

He laughed, relief evident to them both. “I’m happy to be of service Master Xavier. You just have to say the word.”

“Well,” Charles continued, his lips curling into a teasing smile, “perhaps you could oblige me by doing it again?”

His cock throbbed with interest, already filling again as he rocked languidly against Charles with a grin.  “As you wish,” he said. “I’m yours to command.”


	33. Not Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Charles makes the ultimate sacrifice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by [this incredible artwork](http://gerec.tumblr.com/post/125874561116/dwaroxxx-oh-please-no-not-again-no-he-says-a) by [dwaroxxx.](https://varrix.tumblr.com) This is sort of a reimagined XMA scenario with a corrupted dark!Charles. 
> 
>  
> 
> **TW: character death**

“No,” he says, a shout into the void that holds them all on the edge of a precipice. “Not like  _this_. Not again.”

 _Save me_ , Charles whispers, his voice a mix of youthful conviction and the quiet authority Logan knows so well from the Professor’s older self.  _End it, and I can save_ her _from this fate. Save all of you. No one else has to die._

“No,” he shakes his head, his hands moving to grasp Charles and hold him close. “I can’t. I can’t.”

 _You can_ , Charles answers, his eyes black as a starless sky. His power is a swelling, heaving maelstrom, pushing to unleash itself like a tidal wave and swallow them whole.  _You must do this, Logan. I need your help._

His hands move then, even as he struggles against the overwhelming power, his clenched fist shifting against his will to rest over Charles’ heart. He shakes his head and screams, “No, don’t do this.”

 _I’m sorry,_ Charles says, as Logan’s claws unsheathe, sharp and silent into soft flesh, and blood gushes from the body that slumps into his arms.

 _Thank you_ , Charles says, as Logan cradles him close, tears landing on a pale cheek. 

 _Forgive me_ , Charles says, as the light fades from his eyes, blue once more, as the summer sky.

Logan screams.

\--

“Charles!”

Erik can feel it as it happens, the connection being severed like a torn limb as Charles slumps forward into Logan’s arms. Blood seeps from the stab wounds to soak the front of Charles’ shirt, dark stains hiding the gaping holes in his chest.

“Don’t touch him!” 

He pulls Charles away from Logan and into his own arms, all but daring the man to try and stop him. But Logan barely moves from where he’s slumped onto his knees; is too busy staring at the blood on his hands to notice Erik cradling Charles’ limp body.

“No, Charles, no. Please don’t do this!” 

This can’t be how it ends, he thinks, as he brushes the matted curls off Charles’ forehead. Unseeing eyes stare up at him without love, or pain, or any judgement, and what’s left of Erik’s cold heart shatters. He was always supposed to be the one to die for their people. Not  _Charles_. Never Charles.

“I would have died for you!” he whispers, choking through a haze of tears, his shoulders shaking as he gasps for breath. “Why? Why did you do this?”

Logan turns to him, expression gutted and says, “So you wouldn’t have to.”

 


	34. Cuba, an alternate end

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Erik hits Raven with the bullet, not Charles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by the list of ['love is pain' prompts](http://gerec.tumblr.com/post/126219995171/love-is-pain-starter-sentences) on tumblr, this is the brainchild of [kageillusionz](http://kageillusionz.tumblr.com), with gleeful encouragement from the lovely [velvetcadence.](http://velvetcadence.tumblr.com)
> 
> **TW: character death**

It happens in the blink of an eye.

One minute, they’re struggling on the sand, and Charles is fighting him, his hands grasping desperately for Erik’s helmet. “Erik stop!” Charles screams, and Erik’s fist connects before he even realizes what he’s done. He scrambles onto his feet and pushes the missiles back on course, and then a body is tackling him to the ground, just as he senses the bullets coming from Moira’s gun.

The next minute, Charles is cradling Raven in his arms, one of the bullets Erik redirected lodged in her throat. He knows immediately that Raven is dead, though Charles works frantically to hold the blood at bay. Even Hank knows that it’s too late to save her, for all that he barrels over to her side and clutches desperately at her unmoving hand.

“No, no, no, Raven please, you have to stay with me. Stay with me, we’re going to get you to a hospital, it’ll be okay.” Charles presses the words against Raven’s cheek, his hand cradling her head as he rocks her lifeless body. “You’re going to be fine, Darling. I’m going to take care of you, yeah? Just like I promised.”

Erik’s whole body has gone cold with gut wrenching horror - Shaw, the missiles, the humans all forgotten as the realization of what he’s done washes over him. He never meant to hurt Raven; has only ever wanted to help her, though his intentions certainly mean nothing to her - or anyone else - now.

“Charles,” he says, and Charles’ head whips around at the sound of his voice, his eyes boring deep rents into Erik’s soul. In all the time and all the ways they’ve known each other, Charles has never looked like _this,_  red hot fury blazing like a firestorm under his skin. 

“You,” he snarls, and Erik has to take a step back at the icy venom in his voice. “You did this.”

“I’m sorry,” is all that he can think to say. He stands on the edge of a growing chasm; helpless as Charles’ love and trust in Erik shatters. “I didn’t mean…I’m sorry.”

Charles shakes his head. “You’re sorry? You’re _sorry_? You killed my sister, Erik! Murderer!”

He’ll never forget the look on Charles’ face, just before they all disappear, as Azazel gathers the others around the telepath one by one. It’s not Charles’ disgust, or his rage that will stay with Erik and dog his every thought; not his pain or searing grief that will haunt his dreams.

“I should have never pulled you out of the water,” Charles says, his voice shaking and barely audible as he chokes on his tears. He stands, still cradling Raven in his arms, and stares at Erik as Azazel moves to grip him by the waist.

“I wish I’d never met you.”

It’s the look of regret, Erik thinks as they all disappear from the beach in a puff of sulfur. He stands amongst the wreckage now, the sun shining bright and beautiful on a cloudless day.

Alone, as he’s always been.

Alone, as it was always meant to be.


	35. Not Enough

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Erik's declaration of love only makes it worse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the list of ['love is pain' prompts](http://gerec.tumblr.com/post/126219995171/love-is-pain-starter-sentences) on tumblr:
> 
> **"I wanted to spend my life with you."**

The only sound in the room comes from the scratch of Charles’ pen, a somber and unremarkable end to the rollercoaster of violent emotions he’s lived these past few months. He slides the papers over to Emma, a solid and unwavering presence by his side, and then its Erik’s turn, a careless swirl of ink signaling the end of their eleven year marriage.

He feels drained, and strangely numb, a hollow in his chest where he knows his heart used to be. Emma squeezes his hand and whispers something in his ear but Charles can’t process it; can’t make himself _feel_ anything but tired and done. 

“Charles.”

It shouldn’t hurt this much, he thinks, to hear Erik say his name. The papers were supposed to be the _end_ , a way to stop bleeding out every time he thinks about his marriage going up in flames.

“I just…can you give us a moment please?” Erik says, and both Emma and Azazel leave without another word, closing the door softly behind them. Charles doesn’t move when his husband - ex-husband - walks around the long conference table and stops at his side. Can’t look at him when Erik crouches beside his chair and takes his hand.

He doesn’t know what Erik can possibly say now, that he hasn’t said before. That there can be any words left after everything that’s happened between them. And Erik it seems, arrives belatedly to the same conclusion; his mouth opens and closes a few times but no words come out.

Charles pulls his hand away and maneuvers his chair from the table, turning away from Erik with a shuddering sigh. He makes it to the door before Erik finally speaks, and the words are as welcome as a slap to the face.

“I wanted to spend my life with you.” Erik claims, still so careless with his words, heedless of the way they cut and wound. “I still do.”

“Don’t– ” he starts, and then shakes his head, rubbing his face to stem any tears from falling. “Don’t. Please.” Charles takes a deep breath. “It hardly matters.”

“Forgive me.”

Erik’s cheeks are wet with tears, his face a riot of pain and regret. But Charles has nothing left to give the man he’s loved for all of his adult life; he’s given Erik everything he has and still it wasn’t enough.

“I can’t,” he says, and turns to go.


	36. It's Over

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Charles cheated on Logan with Erik. Logan leaves.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the list of ['love is pain' prompts](http://gerec.tumblr.com/post/126219995171/love-is-pain-starter-sentences) on tumblr:
> 
> **"I don't want you in my life anymore."**
> 
> **TW: Infidelity**

“Please, Logan. Please don’t go.”

Logan ignores him, as he’s being doing for the last hour, opening drawers and shoving his things in his duffel bag as Charles follows him around their apartment. He doesn’t know what else he can do or say to make him stay; apologies are meaningless compared to actions, and promises are worth next to nothing, if Charles can’t stop breaking them.

“Logan, it won’t happen again. It was stupid, please I’m sorry. It’s just…Erik– ”

“Don’t,” Logan interrupts, spinning around to face Charles, expression grim and tired. “You wanna to do this dance with Lehnsherr, suit yourself. But stop dragging me into the middle of it. I don’t need this bullshit.”

Charles grabs his arm but Logan shakes him off, returning to his packing without giving him another glance. He knows he doesn’t deserve yet another chance with Logan after what he did, but he’s not willing to just let him go either. Not without a fight.

“You know that I love you, don’t you?”

Logan sighs. “I do. And I fucking love you too Chuck. But this isn’t even the first time and I…I don’t want to hang around and let you break my heart again. It’s over. We’re done.”

He follows Logan to the door, his own heart aching as Logan hands him his key. Charles reaches to take his hand, relieved when Logan doesn’t push him away, and presses a kiss to knuckles still cut and bruised.

“Can I…can I call you? Will you let me know where you end up?” 

Logan shakes his head, and opens the door. “I’m sorry Chuck, but I don’t want you in my life anymore.”

“No, please! Logan, we can still be friends, I don’t want to lose you!”

Logan grabs him and pushes him against the door, pressing their mouths together in a hard and bruising kiss. He pulls away slowly, wiping the tear off Charles’ cheek with his thumb, and then turns and stalks off without another word.

“Goodbye Logan,” he whispers, an echo in the empty hallway.


	37. I Know

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Logan is in love with a married Charles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the list of ['love is pain' prompts](http://gerec.tumblr.com/post/126219995171/love-is-pain-starter-sentences) on tumblr:
> 
> **“I have taken bullets, and punches, and all sorts of hits. But nothing… no pain compares to loving you.“**
> 
> **TW: Infidelity**

Logan never wonders why, when he has Charles pinned beneath him, slick and sweaty, lodged as deep inside the telepath’s body as Charles is firmly lodged in his mind. Never has doubts or regrets as he rocks his hips and Charles moans, whispering ‘Logan, Logan’ with needy, desperate cries.

It only ever hits him  _after_ , as he’s lying on the bed spent and hollow, and Charles is wandering around the room to gather his clothes. There are shoes, by the door, and pants and underwear too, left where Logan had pressed Charles against the wood and let the telepath fuck his mouth. The shirt is on the table where Charles had ripped it off his own shoulders, as Logan spread him wide and fucked him with his fingers while he moaned and writhed.  

He doesn’t have to look for his wedding ring, because he never takes _that_ off his finger.

Logan doesn’t ask when he’s going to see Charles again. It’s pointless; Charles comes when he can, as it’s always been, and always will be. If he wishes it were different he doesn’t say, and Logan is too proud - and too afraid of the answer - to ask.

When Charles is dressed again, lips too red and hair too mussed, he climbs onto the bed and wraps his arms around Logan. They hold each other for a long time without words, and Logan breathes in deep, trying to capture the scent of his lover before he leaves.

 _I love you._ Charles says and Logan knows it’s the truth, can feel the sadness mingled with the fierce longing in those words.  _You know that I do._

 _I do,_  Logan answers. _I just never expected it to hurt like this._

Charles presses his face against Logan’s neck, his fingers curling into his chest.  _I know._

He runs his fingers gently through Charles’ hair, slotting their mouths together in a kiss, slow and deep.

“I have taken bullets, and punches, and all sorts of hits, Chuck,“ he sighs, “but, nothing… no pain compares to loving you.“ 

 _I know,_  Charles says, as he pulls away, turning away from Logan and slipping off the bed.

 _I know,_  Charles says, as he heads out the door, leaving Logan alone once more.  _I’m sorry._


	38. Emergency Sex

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Charles and Erik are stuck in the middle of nowhere (in space), in a broken shuttle. 
> 
> Erik goes into heat. It's really not a good time.
> 
> A/O crack written for the lovely Pangea :D

“You’ve got to be kidding me…what, like  _now_?”

“Yes,  _now_ ,” Erik growls, and he’s already shoving Charles up against the paneling, tugging at his jumpsuit with rough, impatient hands. “Hurry up and get this over with so I can get back to work.”

Charles sighs and relents, letting Erik strip him out of his clothes. Between the busted engine, their depleted supplies and losing contact with the main research vessel, is he really all that surprised to be hit with yet _another_ ‘emergency’? That Erik is going into _heat_ of all bloody things _,_ when they’re just coming into hour 15 of trying to fix their tiny shuttle so they can get out of this whole mess alive?

“Just stop thinking about it and fuck me,” Erik orders, on his knees and his hand already wrapping around Charles’ cock, using some of his own slick to get the alpha ready. Charles just rolls his eyes and twists the socket wrench a couple more times, screwing the bolt tight before setting his tools down with a grunt. 

“It’s fine, turn around, I got this,” he says and Erik does, the mounting desperation making his movements just shy of being clumsy. Charles reaches to help steady him onto his hands and knees, and then slips his fingers inside to double-check, making sure Erik is open enough to take him in.

Erik hisses and turns his head to snap, “Just do it! I’m not going to get any wetter than this!” and oh how Charles would love to kick his ornery, stubborn ass if he wasn’t about to _stick his cock in it_. He puts his hands on those bony hips and slides in, pushing slowly until he’s flush against Erik, moaning with pleasure.

“Come on, Xavier, do you need a fucking invitation?” Erik snarls and Charles has  _had_  it with his attitude, heat be damned. He starts fucking into Erik  _hard_ ; hard enough to rock him forward with every thrust, deep and rough. Hard enough to make him pant and writhe through gritted teeth. 

“It’s your own damn fault you forgot your meds,” Charles mocks, and of course Erik clenches in anger immediately, and doesn’t it feel just fucking  _fantastic_. “How much time are we going to have to waste laying around while we wait for my knot to go down?”

Erik turns his head again and glares, and he’s shoving his hips back like he wants Charles to  _bruise_  with how rough he’s slapping against his thighs. “Shut up. I was a little busy trying to save our lives. Just shut up and fuck me and we’ll figure out a way to work around the knot.”

And then there’s no more talking, because Erik tilts his head down between his shoulders and braces himself, thrusting back even  _harder_ , like he’s trying to kill Charles with his  _ass._ They’re both going to be black and blue and superbly well fucked when this is all over, and hopefully, still able to get up and off the damn floor to make those engine repairs…

\---

They’re knotted together for the third time when the radio finally crackles to life, and Charles almost gets his dick ripped off by how fast Erik drags them - still tied - over to the controls. 

“Where the fuck have you been, we’ve been trying to contact you for two fucking days! Who is this? Is this Summers?” Erik barks.

“Oh Erik. Always such a pleasure!” comes the voice of Azazel over the radio and Charles slumps against Erik with relief. “So glad we finally found you! Something seems to be wrong with your long range communications, which is why you haven’t been able to message the bridge.”

“That’s fine,” Charles interrupts, cutting off whatever Erik was undoubtedly going to say about the shitty job maintenance did prepping their shuttle. “We’re just happy you got here when you did.”

“Well we’ve actually been here a  _while_ ,” another voice chimes in - laughing, high and amused - and of course it has to be  _Wade Wilson_  of all people. Erik’s face goes from angry to murderous in .008 seconds. “But you seemed kind of… _busy_ , so we decided to wait. For the big finish!”

“Okaygreatwe’llletyouknowwhenyoucanpickusup!” Charles yells and then slams the button to end the transmission, before Erik has a chance to do or say anything to risk their ride back to the ship. 

“Of all the stupid, asinine, ridiculous–” 

Charles pulls Erik into a kiss mid-rant, folding him into his arms and dragging them both back onto the floor of the shuttle. He keeps pressing kisses all over Erik’s face and neck until he can feel the man start to relax, even as his own cock jerks to attention for yet another round.

“One more for the road,” he whispers, and Erik finally - _finally_ \- smiles against Charles’ lips. “One more, I promise, and  _then_  you can kill him.”


	39. DOFP Missing Scene

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Written for this prompt: _Missing scene: As the serum wears off, Logan carries Charles to bed, ends up staying there with him._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can be interpreted as Charles + Logan friendship or Xavierine - your choice :D

Afterwards, Logan keeps his distance, giving Charles space to work through the lingering effects of the serum and Cerebro on his own. Hank has left them to prep the plane for their trip to D.C. in the morning, leaving Logan to keep an eye on Charles as he lingers in the study. He understands Charles’ need to go it alone, now that he’s made the decision to stop wallowing in grief and self-pity. Knows how important it is to pick your own ass up off the ground and get back into the fight, metaphorically or not; doubly so for a man as prideful as Charles Francis Xavier.

But ten minutes later Charles is clearly still in pain, his hands shaking as he grips the arms of the wheelchair, too exhausted to push himself from one side of the room to the other without bumping into the furniture. His growing irritation and embarrassment is palpable, and Logan doesn’t think he can stand to watch him struggle for another second.

“Want a hand?” he asks, taking a step into the room but going no closer, letting Charles spin the chair slowly around to face him. The Professor looks frustrated, dark circles under his eyes and his hair lank and greasy, and the scowl on his face only deepens at Logan’s offer. 

“No. Yes. Fuck,” he curses, rubbing his face tiredly with both hands. “Tell me it’s not always going to be like this, Logan. Tell me I’m not always going to be such a fucking mess.”

It’s a rhetorical question of course, since Charles already knows the answer, having seen and spoken to his older self through their connection in Logan’s mind. But he understands what it is that Charles needs - support and reassurance and hope; things only Logan can give him right now, for all that his own future is a massive unknown.  

“Let’s just say that you were the one picking up my messes,” he says, and Charles chuckles, relaxing against the seat as Logan moves behind the wheelchair, broadcasting his intent. Charles lets him maneuver the chair out of the study and down the hall, until they’re back in the main vestibule at the front of the mansion, leading up the grand staircase.

“You guys got an elevator yet?”

“What?” Charles says, and then, “we do, but it’s not working at the moment. Haven’t needed to fix it…”

He’s eyeing the stairs like it’s a mountain he’s got to climb, probably wondering how he’s going to get himself up to his room in the chair. Logan lightly grips Charles on the shoulder and leans closer, so the Prof. can see his face. “I can carry you.”

If he’s expecting the man to put up a fight he doesn’t get it; Charles just slumps further into his chair and nods, looking resigned. “Alright. Thank you, Logan.”

But he’s clearly pictured it going differently, because he’s shocked when Logan lifts him up and out of the chair bridal style, and starts carrying him up the staircase with Charles’ arms thrown around his neck. “What are you–? Logan! I thought you meant carrying me in the chair!”

Logan just arches an eyebrow at his sputtering. “Bit easier this way don’t you think?” And then, “Don’t worry, Chuck. We’ve done this before.”

The Prof. frowns but doesn’t comment further, settling into Logan’s arms as they make the rest of the way to Charles’ room. It’s not until Logan has placed him gently onto the bed before he looks up again, curiosity written all over his face.

“Are we good friends? In the future?”

Logan thinks about the days and weeks and months that the four of them have been running now, practically living in the Blackbird as the Sentinels track them relentlessly all over the globe. Of the times he’s had to protect the Professor and drag him - always protesting - out of harm’s way as Magneto and Storm and so many others bought them the necessary time to escape. 

“Yeah,” he says. “Good friends.”

Something of his thoughts must show on his face, because Charles reaches tentatively to grasp his arm. “Thank you, for coming back here. Doing all this. It can’t be easy…a man out of time.”

Logan shrugs. “It’s got to work.”

Charles looks uncertain. “And you’re sure that it will? Even after everything that’s happened?”

He sits on the side of the bed and lets out a sigh. “I don’t know. But I trust  _you_. And this is your plan.”

The Prof. doesn’t answer, his brow furrowed as he fixes his unwavering gaze on Logan. It’s not the mistrust or the anger he’s been getting from this version of Xavier since his arrival; the look is much warmer now, though no less intense, a fondness seeping into the crinkle around his eyes and the curve of his lips.

“I don’t think I can sleep,” Charles admits, and pats the space beside him on the bed. “Will you stay and talk to me?”

Logan is already moving before Charles finishes shuffling over, settling in next to the Prof. and slinging an arm over his shoulder. “What do you want to talk about?”

Charles smiles. “Tell me about you, Logan,” he says. “Tell me about the future.”


	40. Have We Met?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Written for this prompt: _What about something much later in[banana’s fanart?](http://cheezybananaz.tumblr.com/post/128479348849/nanny-logan-and-the-bus-stop-adventures) With Charles flirting with his old babysitter years later._

The place is a lot nicer than his usual haunt, with fancy beer and a fancier menu, packed with more drunk college kids than he’s ever wanted to see up close. But Logan is half away across town from Jake’s and in dire need of a drink, so he ignores the crowds around the booths and the pool tables and heads straight over to the bar.

“Hey what can I get ya?” the bartender asks, a ginger haired kid with a dopey smile.

“Draught,” he says, and plunks himself on a stool with a grunt, studiously ignoring some punk sitting on his right who’s busy eyeing him up and down.

“What kind–”

“Just give me something that doesn’t taste like piss,” he snaps, and thankfully the bartender nods and goes to grab his drink. He returns less than a minute later with a beer that’s at least tolerable, with a bit of a kick, and Logan grunts his approval as the kid wanders away.

He’s just getting comfortable, his eyes gravitating to the game on the big screen when a voice with an English accent interrupts him.

“Excuse me, but you look very familiar. Have we met?”

Logan rolls his eyes, because what kind of dumb fuck thinks using a lame ass line like that’s gonna get him laid? He doesn’t even bother turning to look at him, keeping his eyes glued to the T.V. “Go fuck yourself.”

A hitch of breath, and then the voice says, “Logan? Is that really you?”

This time he _does_ turn to look, and finds himself staring into a pair of the bluest fucking eyes he’s ever seen. There’s floppy brown hair to go with those eyes along with a set of red puffy lips and fuck if ‘English’ doesn’t look _gorgeous,_ for all that he looks barely old enough to drink. 

“Who the hell are you?”

The kid grins, like he’s got a delicious secret he can’t wait to share. Logan’s distracted by the way he licks those too red lips and leans into his personal space, until the only thing he can see is the kid’s smug - and admittedly sexy - face.

“Logan, don’t you remember me? It’s Charles. Charles Xavier.”

Holy fuck.

Of course Logan remembers little Charles, his tiny irrepressible Chuck, with those big blue eyes and the bright smile and the way he used to follow Logan around, like a planet orbiting the sun. It’s been well over 12-13? years since he last saw Charles and Raven, and he’d always wondered how the two of them fared after he quit.

Guess Charles at least, turned out just  _fine_.

“You do remember me, don’t you Logan? You used to watch me and my sister Raven, in Westchester? I know it’s been a long time I just thought you’d remem–” 

Logan chuckles. “Yeah kid I remember you. Still running off at the mouth are you?”

He remembers Charles as a cute kid of ten, his cheeks flushing adorably when Logan used to gently tease him. _This_ Charles is the opposite of awkward and embarrassed, eyes flashing with mirth as he leans ever closer and brushes his hand across Logan’s arm.

“Well, my mouth does tend to get me into a lot of… _trouble_ ,” he intones, wagging his eyebrows, and Logan is suddenly horrified - and so fucking turned on - to realize that little Chuck is actually  _coming on to him_.  

“Right…” he mumbles, but can’t actually think of anything witty to say, though he’s saved by a timely holler from someone across the room. Charles waves in that general direction before turning back to Logan, tucking a card into the palm of his hand before leaning to give him a kiss on the cheek.

“I have to go now, but you’ll call me, won’t you?” Charles pleads, and oh he’s still got that puppy-eyed look that used to get Logan every time. “You’re not going to just disappear again, are you? Because I’ve missed you so much, Logan. Promise me you’ll call.”

Logan finds himself nodding before Charles has even finished talking, because he’s always been such a sucker for those baby blues. Charles gives him a smile that lights up the whole fucking room, before turning and walking away, giving Logan an eyeful of his lush ass and swaying hips.

“Fuck,” he mutters, half under his breath, ignoring the strange look the bartender gives him. “Fuck me, I’m in so much shit.”

 


	41. Sequel Snippet - An Interesting Proposition

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Erik finds out he's a father, and that there's a new alpha staying with Charles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've just written a series of prequel/sequel snippets on tumblr for existing fics of mine and I'm posting them here now for easier viewing. More short teasers than one shots, but hope they're fun to read nonetheless!
> 
> This one takes place about three months after the end of 'An Interesting Proposition', as requested by crow821!

Logan knows that something isn’t right, the moment he pulls his car to a stop in the circular driveway. There’s something almost electric in the air - like the calm before a thunderstorm breaks - as he steps out of the car and bounds into the house and up the winding staircase. That none of the others step out to greet him is also unsettling, since Hank and Alex and Sean were all waiting for him to return with the furniture for the new baby’s room.

He’s relieved when Charles sends him a warm greeting, directing him to his bedroom at the far end of the east wing, along with a warning that he has an unwanted visitor.

When he opens the door to the bedroom he finds Charles sitting on his bed, propped up against the headboard, the round swell of his belly large and obvious under the light blue sheet. He’s glaring at a man dressed in a black turtleneck and a ridiculous purple helmet, who stops pacing as soon as he sees Logan, the metal in the room vibrating dangerously as he turns to address him. 

“If you know what’s good for you,” he snarls, with the full fury of an alpha protecting his mate,“ you’ll stay the hell away from Charles and my baby.”

“Erik Lehnsherr,” Logan says with a feral grin, unsheathing his claws slowly before kicking the door shut behind him. “Oh we’ve been expecting you.”


	42. Prequel Snippet - Dangerous Games

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Charlotte Xavier meets a mysterious stranger named 'Erik'.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prequel snippet for 'Dangerous Games' written for turtletotem!

“Excuse me, may I borrow Ms. Xavier for a moment please?”

The interruption comes at exactly the right time, as Charlotte glances away from a droning Dr. Essex to the man that’s suddenly appeared by her side. He is tall and rakishly handsome, with reddish brown hair and the most stunningly beautiful blue eyes. His black Armani tuxedo is tailored to perfection, clinging to every part of him in exactly the right places, and Charlotte finds herself suddenly and unexpectedly in lust over the hottest man she’s met all night. 

Or possibly -  _ever_.

She straightens and gives him her most delighted smile, the one that says  _hello handsome_  and  _where have you been all my life._

“Yes, of course,” she answers, before Essex can object. “Please excuse me Doctor. I hope you enjoy the rest of the evening.”

The man offers her his arm and leads her away without a word. He does not stop until they are well away from the mingling crowd, until he draws Charlotte to a far corner of the ballroom and turns to her with the most devilish smile.

“Thank you for the save, Mr…”

“Erik,” he says, eyes twinkling with mirth.

“Mr. Erik?” she replies, her lips curling into a unabashed grin. “Do you have a last name Mr. Erik?”

He leans just a hair’s breadth into her space and takes her hand, barely brushing his lips across her knuckles and says slowly, with intent. “Just Erik.”

It sends a shiver of lust shooting straight up her spine, arousal flaring hot as he drops her hand from his lips but doesn’t let go. Charlotte has known a lot of confident and charismatic people in her lifetime, but something about ‘Erik’ speaks to the rebellious streak in her soul, something that senses an edge of danger and intrigue and says  _let’s go_.

She licks her lips absently and watches, pleased and amused as Erik’s eyes follow the sweep of her tongue and stare for long moments as though entranced. Taking a quick glance around she notices the lack of eyes on her for the first time this evening, and decides to indulge in a little bit of fun.

“Is there something you wanted, ‘Just Erik’?” she teases, chuckling at the way Erik’s eyes immediately sweep up and down her body, hungry with intent. “I hope you’re going to tell me you’d like to make a sizeable contribution to the Xavier Foundation. That  _is_  why we’re all here tonight, isn’t it?”

Erik inches even closer, until she’s close enough to feel the heat radiating off every bit of his six foot frame. “I have rather considerable  _assets_ , Ms. Xavier, that I would gladly give to such a worthy cause.”

“Charlotte,” she answers, and then takes his hand. “That is very good to hear, Erik. Come with me, I’d like to know _all_  about your considerable assets.”


	43. Preview Snippet - Gods or Mortals

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Erik has a gift for Charles on his wedding day. Charles gives him a gift in return.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **SPOILERS SPOILERS SPOILERS!!!** This is a snippet from a future chapter of Gods or Mortals, written for ang3lsh1!

If Erik thought that the ceremony would be the worst part of the day, forced to watch Charles exchange vows of love and fidelity with his uncle he was wrong. It’s even more excruciating to sit through the twelve-course wedding feast in the Grand Hall of Graymalkin Castle, the same place where Brian Xavier had once announced Erik’s engagement to his only son.

He barely touches his food as they serve them course after course, showcasing the combined wealth and bounty of Westchester and Aerie to the two hundred seated guests. Magda sits by his side, expression wrought with sympathy, while Logan spends much of the meal deep in his cups, barely able to stand looking at Erik.

When the meal finally draws to a close, and the servants have delivered sweets to the tables - fresh dates and sugared squares and dark chocolate from the land of Wakanda - the monarchs of the gathered kingdoms stand one by one to offer gifts of well wishes and blessings on the newly wedded couple.

The hush in the vast room is deafening when it’s Erik’s turn to stand, all eyes transfixed as the King of Genosha makes his pledge. His uncle looks pleased, and happier than he’s been for some time while Charles…

Charles’ expression is completely unreadable, a mask of regal congeniality that would make Queen Sharon proud.

“Today is a joyous occasion,” he manages, voice convincingly even as he lifts his goblet in a toast. “The marriage of my beloved uncle with Prince Charles of Westchester, soon to be its King. I offer you my congratulations, and my wishes for a happy union. We celebrate your special day with a gift - a pair of Genosha’s finest mares - purebred and selected from the King’s personal stable.”

He swallows the bitter bile rising in his throat, and waits for Sebastian to speak, as the cheers and applause subside. But it is Charles who answers Erik’s call, raising his own goblet in the air with a wry smile.

“My husband and I thank you for your generosity,” Charles states, his eyes like daggers piercing into Erik’s soul. “And we are so pleased that you and your Queen could be with us, here, on this most special of days. I too, have a gift for you, King Erik of Genosha; a symbol of our regard and congratulations, on your most excellent news.”

The room is abuzz with anticipation as four servants carry something hidden into the center of the room, draped in the blue and silver heraldry of Westchester. Charles never takes his eyes off of Erik as the gift is gently placed onto the ground, his expression muted and unchanging as the servants move as one to reveal a baby’s cradle, trimmed in gold.

“For the soon to be heir of Genosha,” Charles continues, as Erik stares, uncomprehending between the cradle and the shocked and apologetic look on Magda’s face. “I truly hope that your family’s happiness will equal that of our own.”  


	44. Sequel Snippet - The Sleeping Prince

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Logan meets a boy in the tavern with tales of The Sleeping Prince.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Takes place after the end of 'The Sleeping Prince', written for timelosser!

The boy looks barely old enough to be at the inn at this late hour, and painfully out of place in his too soft clothes and softer skin. A rich merchant’s son, Logan thinks, spinning tales for fun, pretending to have information about the Castle and its inhabitants.

“Are you certain you want to go up there Mr…?” the boy prompts, his eyes flickering like blue fire in the candlelight.

“Logan,” he replies, feeling oddly compelled to answer. “And yes, I’m certain. My Queen wishes to claim this land as her own and so we must determine once and for all the fate of the Sleeping Prince.”

“And all the people that have gone before you and have never returned? Are you not afraid?” the boy whispers, his hand warm and solid on Logan’s arm. 

Logan shrugs. “It is my duty to obey Her Majesty’s wish.”

“Then perhaps I can offer my services, to be your guide,” the boy offers, his smile welcoming and mischievous at once. “For you see, I have already met him, the Sleeping Prince.”

“Have you?” Logan snorts, taking a deep pull of his mead. “Tell me then, what does he look like, your Prince?”

The boy seems quite pleased at his question, and tilts his head to look at Logan, seeming to size him up in comparison. “He is about the same height as you, with similar colored hair, though his is woven through with a hint of the colors of sunset. He has broad shoulders and a trim waist and the most beautiful hands I have ever seen.”

“And will you take me to him?” Logan teases, determined to humor the boy and his wild tales. What harm could there be to amuse himself with a bit of interesting, if unreliable company?

His companion smiles, running his tongue over plush red lips. “Yes I will take you to him,” he says, voice laden with promise, “to Erik, my beautiful Sleeping Prince.”


	45. Sequel Snippet - Setting A Different Course

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Logan meets Charles Xavier, after the events of 'DOFP'.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Post the events of 'Setting A Different Course' during DOFP, written for harlieco!

Logan opens his eyes to a mop of shaggy brown hair, belonging to someone who has apparently fallen asleep half sitting in a wheelchair, and half sprawled on the bed. 

A bed he doesn’t recognize, and where he’s currently laying underneath the sheets.

Since his instincts aren’t screaming ‘danger’ and he doesn’t see an immediate threat (minus the sleeping stranger), he gives himself a moment to ease slowly into wakefulness, trying to will his head to stop throbbing with quite so much force.

“Logan?” 

He tenses, and the dull throbbing spikes into a sharp pain, before it slowly fades away to a barely noticeable hum. A quick glance finds the stranger - a man who appears to be in his thirties, and handsome, if a bit tired and worn - with a finger to his temple and smile on his face.

“Feeling better?” the man asks, leaning back into his chair to give Logan some space to sit up. “Let me know if the headache comes back; I can help you with it.”

He turns onto his side and props himself up with one arm, stretching his neck and rolling his shoulders with a grunt. Everything _feels_ alright - no broken bones or open wounds and he hasn’t been restrained in any way. But he has no idea where he is or how he got here, whereever ‘here’ is. And he definitely has no idea who the stranger is that’s sitting there, watching him with curious eyes.

“No offense kid,” he grumbles, as he pulls himself into a sitting position, the sheets falling to his waist, uncovering his exposed chest. “But you’re definitely  _not_  the brunette I went to bed with last night.”

There’s a rather undignified snort of laughter as Logan takes in the rest of the well furnished room, and an amused expression comes over the man’s youngish face as he says, “Well then, I guess that answers the question of whether or not you remember me. Or what happened.”

Logan shakes his head. “Never seen you before in my life.”

The man leans forward in his chair and smiles, his eyes warm with a fondness that Logan doesn’t understand. “I’m Charles Xavier,” he explains, “and I have a story to tell you, about the future.”


	46. Preview Snippet - All of You and All of Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's an assassination attempt on Charles' life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Takes place sometime in the future in 'All of You and All of Me', written for charlesxavierthetelepath!

Erik makes it up onto the deck, just in time to see Charles plunge headlong into the waves.

“ _Charles!_ ” he screams, the sound all but lost amidst the panicked shouts of the ship’s crew, all stunned as they watch their Prince Consort disappear into the deep dark of the churning sea.

Emma and Azazel appear by his side in a flash of sulfur, flanking him as he grabs a rope line and quickly wraps it around his waist, shrugging off his heavy overcoat impatiently with a snarl.

Azazel grabs him by the arm, and snaps, “What are you doing, Erik? You are the King! You can’t go after him, one of us will go.”

“He’s my  _husband_ ,” Erik growls, wrenching his arm away and raising his hand, trying to sense the pocket watch he gifted to Charles for his birthday, only three days before. “I’m going to go down there and get him, and you two are going to find out what happened up here, and who tried to kill him.”

He ignores Azazel’s retort and Emma’s unspoken concern, and dives in, steeling his body against the shock as he’s enveloped in the frigid cold. Spreading his powers outwards he manages to locate Charles quickly enough – finding him surfacing for air and then hollering Howlett’s name before ducking back under the waves.

“Logan! Logan!” Charles screams, his voice cracking from the cold and threaded with desperation. Erik reaches for him, grabbing him around the waist only for Charles to shove him away, knocking them both off balance and making them scramble to stay afloat.

“Let go of me, I have to find him,” Charles shouts, seeming to forget for a moment his ability to communicate without words, eyes wide with horror. “I can’t…he’s not answering me.”

Erik reaches for him again, and this time, Charles doesn’t fight him, letting Erik wrap his arms around his chest and pull him close. He brushes a kiss against the back of his husband’s head, and then gently pushes the thought outwards, knowing that Charles will hear his words.

_We have to go back,_ he sends, his grip tight as Charles tries to pull away.  _You’ll freeze to death, Charles! We have to go back!_

_I have to find Logan!_ Charles argues, though Erik can feel his arms growing weaker with every second that passes in the icy waters.  _He’s out here, somewhere, with the assassin…he was protecting me! Erik, I can’t let him die!_

_You have to let him go,_ Erik says, gently, but with conviction.  _How do you think he would feel if something happened to you? After he gave his life to save yours?_

It’s harsh, but not untrue, and even Charles can’t deny that Erik is right about what Logan would have wanted. If there is one thing Erik can admire about the man it is his dedication and loyalty to Charles; devoted to putting his lover’s welfare above his own, always.

_Emma!_ he sends, not waiting for Charles’ answer, knowing that she would be waiting anxiously for his signal.  _Bring us in!_

_No!_ Charles pushes, but Azazel is faster, working with Erik and Emma both to find and then whisk them back onto the ship in the blink of an eye. They are immediately bundled into heavy blankets by many sets of hands, the crew relieved to have their beloved Consort safe, but Charles ignores it all, making his way slowly to stand by the railings.

He watches helplessly as Charles starts to cry, great wracking sobs that tear through his still shivering body. It is not what he wanted for Logan, this end, no matter how he feels about the man who keeps his husband’s heart. And it is certainly not what he wanted for Charles, whom he loves more than he ever thought possible.

And though the assassin might not have succeeded with his plan to murder his Consort, he’s still managed to take something from each of them tonight.

Logan’s life.

Charles’ heart.

And any hope Erik might have harbored for a marriage without ghosts.

 


	47. Sequel Snippet - The Man With No Name

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Logan regains his memories.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Post the end of 'The Man With No Name', written for kernezelda!

He opens his eyes, and for the first time in months he remembers his name.

_I’m James Logan Howlett_ , he thinks, as the memories all come flooding back, intense and overwhelming.

Charles telling Logan his plan.

His refusal to put Charles in harm’s way, and back in Lehnsherr’s hands.

Frost’s voice in his head, cold and unyielding.

Blood. 

His hands around Charles’ throat, hurting him. Bruising him. 

_Raping_  him. The man he promised to protect.

The man he loves.

Logan screams, and everything goes black.

—-

This time, when he wakes up, there’s someone lying beside him on the bed.

“Logan, it’s alright Darling. I’m here,” Charles soothes and he grabs blindly to pull the warm body against him, clinging desperately and unwilling to let go. “I’ve got you. You’re safe. Everything’s alright now.”

“I hurt you,” he whispers, his voice muffled against Charles’ hair. “I didn’t…he brought you to me and I  _hurt_  you. Charles I’m so sor–” 

His pleas are cut short by Charles’ mouth on his own, soft, yet edged with fierce determination. “You didn’t, Logan. You could never, not even when you didn’t remember, you never truly hurt me. And I’m the one who asked you to go along with it, so they would think that they’d won.”

He shakes his head, but doesn’t argue, too content to have Charles in his arms and control of his own mind again. “Did it work?” he asks, knowing that it must have, or Logan would still be in his cell, living like an animal.

“Frost is dead,” Charles answers, and Logan feels the flush of deep satisfaction mirrored in his lover’s thoughts. “And Erik is…under control.”

Logan growls and instinctively wraps his arms tighter around Charles. “Kill him. Without Frost and his helmet he’s no threat to our plans. Not anymore.”

Instead of answering him, Charles rolls on top of Logan, straddling him and running his hands down his naked chest. “I have an idea, for what we can do with him,” he says, tugging his shirt over his head with a grin. “But right now, I just need you to take me to bed.”


	48. Who The Hell Are You?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Raven meets Logan. She's terribly unimpressed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Based on a prompt by the amazing dwaroxxx, where Logan and Charles actually met during his Oxford days, and Raven’s reaction to Logan just ‘dropping by’ one day on their cozy little twosome :D

In the years since they’ve moved to their shared flat in Oxford, Raven has had more than one random visitor show up at her front door; on the account that her ‘charming’ and irrepressible flirt of a brother/roommate tends to make ‘friends’ wherever he goes. 

Of course most are of the pretty, also attending Oxford variety, easily impressed and just as easily dispatched with whatever scheme Raven chooses on a given day. Sometimes, she pretends to be a devastated and jealous girlfriend or wife; on others she shifts to various personalities to suit her mood – a snarling biker with tattoos covering his arms and neck, or a surprised off duty officer free with lectures on the inherent folly of seeking strangers in their homes.

It always works, and Charles never seems all that bothered by her ‘antics’ as he calls them - mostly with marked fondness – so Raven sees no reason to change.

Except one day, someone shows up looking for her brother…and refuses to leave.

\---

“I’m looking for Charles Xavier. Is he in?”

The man at the door is nothing like the others who’ve come before, all burly muscle and rugged good looks, more at home in a rough inner city bar than in a pretty university town. There’s a leather jacket over top of a plain white t-shirt, with worn jeans and motorcycle boots to complete the rather striking picture, and Raven is left a little speechless at what this man could possibly want with _Charles_ \- her rich, posh, academic bore of a brother.

“Who are you?” she asks, folding her arms and leveling ‘side burns’ with a glare. “And what do want?”

The man looks her up and down, decidedly unimpressed with her terse greeting. “Who the hell are you, his mother? Is he here or not?”

“I’m his _sister_ ,” she snarls, blocking the doorway with her body as ‘side burns’ attempts to peek around her for a glimpse inside the apartment. “Charles’ business _is_ my business. So you can tell me what you want with him or you can turn around and leave.”

The man just arches an eyebrow at her, leaning against the door frame as though he’s settling in for a long wait. “Sister eh? Chuck never said anything about having a sister.”

She snorts. “Clearly you don’t know him very well, if he didn’t tell you about _me_.”

But the man only shrugs his shoulders, giving Raven an infuriating smile. “Probably. At the time we were too busy to do much talking.”

He says it with the barest hint of a smirk on his lips, just enough for Raven to question whether there was a lewd jest veiled in that seemingly innocuous statement. Charles had told her once, when they were still teenagers that he was attracted first and foremost to someone’s mind; that ‘male’ or ‘female’ mattered very little to a telepath who could see the sum of a person’s beauty both inside and out.

She wonders, looking at the man camped in her doorway, whether his connection with Charles is that of a passing acquaintance, a friendship, or something _more_.

“Raven, is there someone at the—Logan!” Charles chimes in from the hallway, the smile breaking across his face like a sunrise as soon as he catches sight of the ‘not’ stranger. “It’s so good to see you! What are you doing here?”

Unexpectedly, the man – Logan’s – expression softens a little at her brother’s enthusiastic greeting, and his voice loses the impatient edge he’s been using with Raven just moments before. “I was in the neighborhood; thought I’d stop by. Take you out for that beer I owe ya.”

“That would be lovely.” Charles answers, the two men exchanging a long, indecipherable look before he seems to realize that Raven is still standing there, and wraps his arm around her shoulder, tugging her close. “Oh I’m sorry, Darling! Raven this is my friend, Logan. Logan, my sister Raven.”

“We’ve met,” she says, tone decidedly frosty, though it seems that her brother and ‘Logan’ are too busy grinning at each other to notice. “And how do you know each other, again?”

 _Who the hell is this guy?_ she sends, in addition to her brusque words. _And why have you never told me about him?_

Charles squeezes her arm and then takes her hand, brushing a quick kiss across her knuckles. “We met in a bar in London some months ago, and struck up a rather interesting conversation. We exchanged names and I extended an invitation for Logan to visit, if he was ever passing through,” Charles explains, leaving giant, obvious gaps in the story of their meeting. “I’m pleased he decided to take me up on that offer.”

 _He’s like us,_ Charles hurries to add, sounding firm if a bit apologetic, _but I can’t tell you much more than that, I’m sorry. Logan doesn’t like sharing details about his life and…well, his secrets are not mine to tell._

“Right then. You got your explanation now, can we go?”

Raven doesn’t think she’s ever met anyone quite as manner-less as this mysterious ‘friend’, who is already dragging her brother half way out the door. He reaches to grab Charles’ arm to tug him past Raven, and before she knows it she’s staring at her brother’s back as the two make their way down the hall.

“Sorry Darling, we’ll be back in a few hours,” Charles tosses over his shoulder, blowing her a kiss as he and Logan step through the elevator doors. Logan gives her a little wave too, something that makes her hackles rise, along with his last words just as the doors are closing --

“Bye _Darling_ , don’t wait up!”

Whoever this Logan guy turns out to be, she thinks, yanking the door closed behind her with a bang; Raven hates him already.

 


	49. I Like The Tie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pre-XMFC AU. Inspired by [this incredible Xavierine art](http://gerec.tumblr.com/post/133873707666/dwaroxxx-at-the-time-we-were-too-busy-to-do-much) by the amazing dwaroxxx!

 “Really?” Charles mutters, his voice hitching slightly as Logan slides a hand across his stomach to brush lightly against his swollen cock. “You want me to keep the tie on? _Just_ the tie?”

“I like the tie,” he murmurs, nipping Charles’ ear playfully, but sharp enough to draw a hiss before he softens the burn with a gentle suck. “Reminds me of how much I wanted to get you outta that damn suit. Back at the bar.”

“I looked good in that suit,” is Charles’ reply, still much too cocky and self-possessed lying naked on Logan’s poor excuse for a bed, with Logan’s thick fingers working him open. He can’t stop staring at the flush high on those gorgeous cheekbones, or the light film of sweat that makes Charles’ skin glow from the neon lights filtering in through the window. It’s like looking at a sculpted marble statue in one of those fancy museums, only with skin soft and warm and so fucking pliable under his calloused hands.

He pushes his fingers back in, adding one more, and Charles groans, arching back against Logan, searching blindly for his lips. Charles tastes like whiskey, edged with bitter traces of Logan still, from when he sucked Logan in the men’s room back at the bar. Somehow, it’s the best damn thing Logan thinks he’s ever tasted; those lips and that mouth, so lush and full from getting fucked by his cock.

“Look better without it,” he says, thrusting harder, making Charles writhe, and buck against him with panted breaths. “I like this look right now. So desperate for it, desperate for my cock. You want it, Charles?”

He punctuates the dirty talk with a nudge against Charles’ prostate, and that’s enough to make him lose the last of his control, Charles’ telepathy unwinding completely around Logan, all fuzzy edges and unbridled lust. Every push drives him higher and higher, nothing but incoherent want and vivid flashes of hot desire.

“Ple—please,” Charles begs, and Logan can’t help but kiss him again, devouring him; can’t help but want this to go on and on and never stop. “Please…Logan. I want…fuck me now. Now. Oh.”

“ _Fuck_ ,” he says, though what he means he doesn’t know. It could be ‘you’re perfect’, or ‘yes I’ll give you anything you want’, or ‘I’ve never wanted anything like I want this’. Somehow, he manages to shove his jeans down and the condom on without letting go of Charles, and then he’s pushing Charles onto his stomach, and sliding in with a grunt.

He doesn’t wait, because Charles is urging him on, pushing _go, go, go_ in his head with unconcealed impatience that is both demanding and endearing at once. Logan fucks him, just like that, holding him down on the worn mattress by his hair; ruts into that tight heat like he’s going to die, and this is the last thing he gets to do – wants to do – before the end.

 _Harder_ , Charles sends, and Logan complies; shoves in and out of his ass harder, making him moan. He grips Charles’ hair tighter too, and cages the body beneath him until Charles can’t move – can only take it as Logan fucks him, and uses him, until he comes deep inside Charles with a shudder and a long and pleasured groan.

\----

Later, Charles is sitting in Logan’s lap, with Logan’s hands brushing gently up and down his back.

“I like that tie,” he says with a grin. Somehow, after everything they’ve done so far Charles is still wearing the tie, though he and Logan are naked everywhere else.

“I know.” Charles gives him an answering grin, before tugging it off his neck and using it to bind Logan’s hands. “I think it’s your turn to wear it, for a little while.”


	50. 'The Xavier Club For Super Hot Gyrating Bods of Steel'

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Xavier Institute for Gifted Youngsters is just a front.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A silly drabble based on a comment McAvoy recently made about making Channing Tatum dance for him (as Gambit) and the ensuing discussion with Nikorys. 
> 
> Or - Magic Mike au, sort of lol.

“This is really  _not_  what I expected.”

Which is probably the understatement of the century, Remy thinks, as he watches the great Magneto - stoic, deadly, _lethal_  Magneto -  perform what can only be described as the filthiest, most erotic lap dance he’s ever seen. A lap dance that has the currently shirtless (though he’s still wearing the purple cape) and oiled Master of Magnetism gyrating his rather trim hips and humping the Professor in his chair.

“What’d you think this was, bub? An actual school?” It’s Logan, and though it’s been a while since Remy has seen his friend it’s nice to see that the man hasn’t changed a bit of his surly self. “Some kinda bizarre, private militarized vigilante team the Prof gathered to protect other mutants? And humans?”

“Well, maybe? He said–”

“The Prof says a lot of things,” the kid - Hank he thinks? - says, looking a little shy as he pushes the glasses up the bridge of his nose, a rather incongruous sight since he too is wandering the ‘Danger Room’ shirtless, his surprisingly muscular chest glistening under the strobe lights. “He probably just looked in your head and said what he knew would actually get you here.”

“Merde,” he mutters, as Magneto and the Professor enact what is dangerously close to pornography in a room full of mutants, all rather scantily clad and suspiciously oily. “What are we supposed to do?”

Logan spits out his cigar and yanks off his shirt, revealing his own impressive - and impressively shiny abs - with a grin. “Now,” he says as the Prof smiles and waves him over. “Now, we dance.” 


	51. It's Not a Purple Tie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Erik visits Charles on his birthday and brings a very special gift.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for Casey's birthday (aka velvetcadence). She asked for 'porn' and 'Erik's dick in a box'. I managed to get one of those into this fic...

Charles wakes up in the middle of the night to the sound of his window creaking open, and then the slight ‘thump’ of booted feet landing softly on his bedroom floor.

He knows it’s Erik immediately, the press of his mind close and intimate, projecting tenderness and excitement as Charles rubs the sleep from his eyes and slowly props himself up onto his side.

“Erik?”

“Happy Birthday, Charles,” he says, barely above a whisper, as though he’s afraid of shattering the hazy softness of the moment. Charles’ room is neutral ground and quiet sanctuary, and they’ve long agreed to keep their grievances - large and small - firmly outside of this private space.

Erik is holding a beautifully wrapped package, a large purple box with a giant ribbon perfectly centered on the lid. He holds it like the most sacred offering, gently cradling it against his stomach.

“You remembered, and you brought me a gift,” Charles breathes, a little overwhelmed at Erik’s thoughtfulness, in light of their recent dealings. It’s been a tense couple of months between the X-Men and the Brotherhood, and the last words they shared on the field have been particularly sharp and perhaps uncharacteristically brutal.

“Of course I remembered your birthday, Charles. And I brought you something that I know you’re going to love.”

He pulls himself up and swings his legs over the edge of the bed, sitting just about at eye level with the massive box. “Really? You’re sure I’m going to love it? I didn’t much care for the purple tie you gave me last year.” He chuckles. “Well I didn’t care to  _wear_  it, though it did prove to be quite useful for …other things.”

Erik grins, looking immeasurably pleased over Charles fond recollection. “I think you’ll like this gift just as much, if not more,” he insists, and then tilts his head to indicate the package. “Go ahead, open it up and see.”

He’s tempted to sneak a peek in Erik’s head to see why he looks so unbearably smug but chooses not to at the last minute - he really does like to be surprised, once in a blue moon. “Alright, let’s see what you’ve got.”

Charles fumbles with the ribbon as Erik muffles a laugh, and then he’s holding his breath, mind racing with anticipation at what could possibly be inside…

“Erik,” he intones. “This is…”

“Yes, Charles?” Erik asks, sounding suspiciously on the edge of hysterical laughter.

“This is your dick. In a box,” Charles mutters, not sure if he’s mortified or incredibly turned on at the sight of Erik’s enormous cock jutting proudly through a hole in the side of the packaging. “You gave me your dick in a box. For my birthday.”

And something about Charles’ expression or the sour note in his voice sets Erik off completely, and he lets loose a cackle so loud Charles has to throw up a sound barrier around his room so as not to wake the others. 

“I said you’d love it,” Erik wheezes, wiping a stray tear from his eye. “And this way I don’t have to listen to you bitch about my taste in presents, and how I never get you anything you like.”

Erik’s dick is still bobbing up and down, all gorgeous and pink and swollen, and when Erik starts waving his hands around to make his point the box just…hangs there. Off his dick. 

It’s such a ridiculous sight that Charles can’t help himself - he laughs, and laughs, and laughs until his stomach hurts and he can scarcely breathe.

—-

Much later, with Erik in his arms and the box safely stowed underneath the bed he whispers, “I’ve missed you so much. Thank you for coming to see me on my birthday.” 

Erik smiles, the soft and open one that smooths away the hard edges; the one he reserves only for Charles. “I wouldn’t miss it. Did you like your gift?

“I did,” Charles answers. “Much better than the tie, Darling.”


	52. My Turn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pre-XMFC AU. Xavierine PWP continuing from [Chapter 50: I Like The Tie](http://archiveofourown.org/works/902067/chapters/12258695).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Very consensual bloodplay, painplay.

_Are you comfortable?_ the voice asks, like liquid honey over the sharpest steel, sinking ever deeper into his head. _You still want this, Logan, yeah?_

He chuckles under his breath, the polite query all the more amusing in their current state, with Logan’s hands tied behind his head, and Charles riding him on his bed. Good thing his healing factor comes with a side of increased stamina, or he’d never be able to keep up with the kid’s damn near insatiable appetite. 

“Yeah,” he says, and bucks his hips, groaning as Charles clenches around him, moving leisurely up and down his cock. They’ve been at this for what seems like hours already, and Charles is showing no sign of slowing down. “I want it. Come on, Chuck, do your worst.”

His hands twitch unconsciously as Charles leans close to press their lips together, the kiss slow and wet as Charles slips his talented tongue inside Logan’s mouth. He’s starting to regret letting Charles restrain him, because he wants to fucking touch _everywhere;_ stroke and pinch and bruise every delectable inch of that gorgeous body.

“Uh uh, no touching,” Charles teases, punctuating his words by sinking down to the root, jarring a gasp from his lips and a desperate grunt from Logan. Charles seems perfectly content to drive him crazy, riding his cock like a champion jockey showing off his prized stallion. Never mind that Logan wants to rip that damn tie off his hands and roll Charles over onto his hands and knees, and worship that shapely ass ‘til he can’t remember his own name.

He bucks _hard_ , and Charles moans, hands sliding from his shoulders to his chest, carding through the soft curls before pinching playfully at his nipple. It sends a jolt past his stomach all the way down to his groin, so good that it makes him growl, low and impatient, “Goddammit, fuckin’ tease.”

“I think you like it.” Charles is a little winded as he grinds his ass against Logan’s thighs, grinning from ear to ear. “I think you like not being in control. That you like _losing_ control, and knowing that you can’t accidentally hurt me in the process. You like that I can do whatever I want with you, whenever and however I want it.”

Kid’s got his number in one.

If he counts the unpleasant business they dealt with when they first met – Charles mind wiping his whereabouts from the people on Logan’s trail – they’ve still only known each other for a mere 48 hours; not nearly enough for the show of trust he’s giving to the cocky telepath. But the man’s appreciation for Logan’s powers, and his honest joy at meeting another mutant makes him trust Charles with his body; his gut tells him he can trust Charles with his mind too.

A rush of adrenaline shoots all the way from his head to the tip of his toes, when Charles presses the blade flat against his chest, the cold metal burning a hole in his skin. There’s a heady mix of Charles’ excitement mingled with Logan’s anticipation, and then the blade is digging in, slicing slowly and methodically into his flesh.

It doesn’t hurt until it _does_ , searing pain that makes him hiss as the blood gushes, and then almost immediately starts to pool, his skin knitting itself back together until the cut fades and then disappears. Charles’ face is a rapture of awe and ecstasy, his arousal combining and then ramping higher with Logan’s lust, almost overwhelming as they let themselves soak in the heightened pleasure, edged with pain.

“Oh,” Charles breathes, his eyes are wide and almost black with hunger. “That was good, Logan. Shall we try it again?”

 _Yes_ , he thrusts, with his words and his cock both and Charles moans like he’s dying, writhing his hips faster and faster. He sinks his teeth into Logan’s neck and bites, and the blade moves again, slicing longer and deeper this time, making Logan howl. It goes on and on, intoxicating and addictive, the sting of every cut mingled with the bliss of relief, drowning them both in breathless, insensate pleasure.

He comes shouting Charles’ name, the tight clench around his cock pulling him over the edge as Charles spurts all over him, blunt nails raking against healed and healing flesh. The room is spinning like they’re on a merry-go-around, and the only thing holding him steady is the warm body pressed against his chest.

 _Are you alright_ , Charles asks, after a few moments of silence. He seems a little…concerned, and perhaps mildly amused, as he strokes Logan’s cheek and presses soft kisses into his neck. He realizes why when his brain finally catches up to the rest of him; he’s sitting straight up with Charles in his lap, his claws digging giant holes into the mattress, having ripped the tie to shreds.

 _I should be asking you_ , he thinks, sheathing his claws and moving to slide his hands around Charles’ back, pulling him even closer. _Are you alright?_

Charles laughs, and presses their mouths together for another kiss, contentment soft and languid radiating from every part of him. _I’m more than alright,_ he responds with a sly grin, _but you should know that I expect to be well compensated for my tie._


End file.
